The Past isn't Set in Stone
by LiveLifeLikeMe
Summary: Since as long as any wizard can remember, they've learnt of Merlin's extraordinary power. However, none could ever truly imagine his true strength, never believing his power would last centuries on it's own, waiting to be awakened and change time. Hermione unwillingly finds herself victim of Merlin's will and magic, and can't seem to stop herself from falling into all his plans.
1. Chapter 1: Divided Cores

**_A/N: Hello, yes this is a new story and those of you who have read or are reading my other stories will be wondering about them... All I can say is that I am currently writing the last chapter for Escaping Reality, but I've really got no inspiration for that last chapter. Rest assured, it shoàuld be done sooner rather than later. As for All Because of you, I can make no promises. I have come to believe that I have no talent what so ever for Dramione stories, or I choose bad plots. Either way that story is on pause and I'm thinking of stopping it all together._**

 ** _Anyway, this is a Hermione and Sirius story. It won't start right away but it'll come gradually. That is if anyone I interested in me writing this story. Tell me what you think so I know what to do! I'd be very grateful!_**

 ** _Lots of love!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing sadly._**

 _Merlin stood on the smooth surface of the ground, near the edge of the cliff. He remained unmoving, staring out at the distance, the only proof that he was not a statue was the wind blowing through his hair causing it to twist and turn away from his face. His robes were thick and made of a dark blue material, his wizard hat pointy and tall._

 _"Are you sure, Merlin?" A slightly younger witch with blood red hair inquired, leaning to the side hesitantly as she eyed the older man._

 _He blinked a few times, his eyes turning back to their usual light blue colour instead of the black orbs they had been moments ago. He scratched his long white beard and grinned at the young_ _lady before him._

 _"Indeed, I've never been more certain of anything in my life, Hecate," he responded softly._

 _"But here?" She repeated a question she had asked him on every visit they had undertook to this very location. "There's nothing here."_

 _"Not yet," he agreed. "But one day there shall be an impressive and powerful building in this very place."_

 _"It's quite a dangerous decision to make, is it not? You yourself state that the future is of a most unstable nature. How can you be sure nothing will change?"_

 _"I cannot," Merlin sighed. "However it is a risk I must take. The magic I place here could ensure_ _the safety of the Wizarding World."_

 _"Or its destruction," the red head shot back, a deep frown on her face._

 _He nodded, lost in thought. "It is a strong possibility, but I must do what I believe is best."_

 _"It could kill you!" Hecate argued back feebly._

 _"Oh, I am quite certain it will, dear Hecate. I do not fear death; in fact I see it as the next greatest adventure."_

 _"As do many others, that does not mean that your actions are not foolish!" She stated, frustrated._

 _"I am ready, Hecate," Merlin said, calmly._

 _"But I am not."_

 _"Have no worries my dear girl, I shall always remain here. Place a landmark on this very_ _spot and ensure it never disappears," he ordered._

 _"You can do that yourself, Merlin."_

 _"I will not have the strength as you very well know," he murmured. "I will be weak and_ _soon, I will die."_

 _"Not immediately."_

 _"Soon," he repeated. "My time has come."_

 _She sighed, shaking her head tiredly. "Very well," she said, waving her wand at him._

 _Merlin smiled kindly and pressed the tip of his wand on his chest, a noise escaping him_ _as if he were humming. Hecate raised her wand and closed her eyes as she started_ _reciting the words Merlin had been sure to make her learn by heart._

 _"Divide, hauriunt et abscondere hoc magicis cor. Tueri intra donec reici."_

 _She watched wide eyed as the powerful wizard winced, holding himself up straight with all his strength, being sure to keep his wand against his heart. Hecate continued her wand movements, her hands motioning from herself to the tall and impressive wizard standing in front of her. Slowly a sort of wisp of golden, red and silver smoke seemed to be escaping from the wizard. It became gradually bigger, seeming to be being forced out of Merlin's very soul and body, until the witch stopped._

 _Hecate moved her hand around the smoke, making it become a beautiful glowing ball of thick smoke. Carefully, so as to not disturb the ball she had created, she levitated a large rock into the air, stopping it just short of touching the globe of light. Merlin was watching her closely, despite the long and drawn out time of practice; nothing could have prepared them for the actual act of removing part of your magical core from your soul. Taking a deep breath to steady her hands, Hecate slowly raised the stone higher until it grazed the large orb. Then, just like that, it was no longer in her control, she held her wand steady, doing all she could to restrain the magic to the small stone._

 _The pair of magical beings, watched, entranced as the rock twirled viciously in the air as it absorbed the magic offered to it._

 _"We've given too much!" Hecate called out to her mentor as the wind roared in her ears and made his hair fly every which way._

 _He shook his head. "No, we've given just enough!" He hollered back, his eyes sparkling at what he was seeing._

 _Suddenly there was a loud crack that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere and echoed all around the pair. The rock released an explosion of blinding bright light as it's spinning came slowly to a halt. When Hecate opened her eyes again, she noticed Merlin's eyes had turned back to their dark black as he smiled somewhat serenely._

 _He picked up the rock and with his wand threw it violently into the air. Hecate lost sight of it as it disappeared into the clouds. Finally it started coming back down and crashed into the ground, this time disappearing into the earth. Merlin kept his wand aimed at the hole, placing protective spells and wards around his very essence of power, buried deep within the ground._

 _"For you, Hermione Granger…" He breathed, in obvious satisfaction._

* * *

 _"This is where he wishes to do it?" Helga Hufflepuff inquired, peering at the nondescript piece of land._

 _"He is right Helga, there appears to be a strong magical aura in this very place," Salazar Slytherin muttered, glaring at the spot of dirt, where grass had failed to grow._

 _"You can sense it then?" Rowena Ravenclaw checked, not having that particular ability._

 _The tall dark haired man nodded. "It would seem someone has placed a part of their magical core here as well. It is incredibly strong," he informed the two witches._

 _The two women stared at the ground curiously until a broad shouldered man walked up to them purposefully._

 _"Are we in agreement that this is where we shall do it, then?" He wondered, eyeing his close friends._

 _After sharing a brief glance the other three nodded. Just when Godric Gryffindor pulled out his wand and aimed it at the floor, Salazar stepped forward."May I verify something first?"_

 _Godric took a step backwards, motioning his hands at the ground with a warm smile in a 'go-right-ahead' manner. Breathing deeply through his nose, Salazar Slytherin started muttering under his breath, the earth glowing a bright blue as something appeared to attempt to dig its way out. The four warlocks stared at the bright rock that flew up into the air, coming to float in midair, eye level to them._

 _"Merlin…" Helga breathed, mesmerized by the unbelievably powerful plain stone._

 _Rowena raised a hand as if to touch it, her hand hovering close but not quite touching it. "Is that… I can feel it!" She claimed, eyes wide as her gaze met Salazar's. "This must mean that the Magical Heart it contains comes from a very strong warlock."_

 _The dark haired, pale man examined it closely, absorbing its magical signature. "This Magical Core comes from Merlin himself," he informed them._

 _The light haired man with tan skin grinned broadly at his friends. "I told you this was the place to store our Core's," his tone slightly smug._

 _"Can this stone stock even more power or is it saturated?" Helga questioned._

 _"Merlin's Core will have made it stronger," Rowena spoke._

 _"It will be able to withstand any addition of magic from us," Godric told her._

 _They stood silently for a while, simply watching the stone floating calmly in the air. Marveling over the fact that something so small could contain such strength, considering why Merlin himself had chosen this place, this rock to do something as dangerous and unpredictable as dividing and stocking his Magical Core._

 _"We never could have chosen a better place to do this or build our school," Rowena breathed, the others nodding along to her words._

 _"Who will go first?" Salazar inquired._

 _Helga moved towards him. "Salazar if you would be willing to do me?" Salazar smirked at her and set to work._

 _Soon all four of them had divided their Magical Core and placed it into the stone with Merlin's. They levitated it back into the ground, warding it and grinned when they heard a sort of crack of thunder, the large wooden doors behind them opening. They could hear the stairs start moving and they shook their heads, satisfied at their jobs well done. They had given life to their school, just like they had planned._

 _Suddenly Rowena glanced at her companions. "Merlin had the gift of sight… Do you believe he placed his Core here because he knew we would build our school?" She asked._

 _Salazar turned to the school before speaking. "Perhaps, or maybe he saw something else entirely?" He pondered aloud._

 _"We can only hope that it completes its original purpose…" Helga added._

 _"Well, after all this serious work, shall we go get a few drinks?" Godric interrupted their thinking with his loud, jolly voice._

 _"Where do you suppose we go?"_

 _"There's a little hut a small way down from here. I'm sure the owners would be happy to serve us. Hogsmead I believe it was named."_

 _"We should recommend they create a village down there, what with the school opening soon. I'm sure our future students would be grateful for a few stores and bars," Rowena proposed._

 _"You know, I believe to think that I've started rubbing off on you, Ro'," Godric joked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as the four walked slowly down to the house they had previously crossed._

 _"Hopefully they have a bit of Firewiskey, it could help me get a bit of strength back. Dividing and removing a part of your Magical Core is horribly tiring. I shan't do it again."_

 _"Helga, if you ever tried doing it again, you'd die," Salazar told her, his voice cold but his eyes gentle._

 _"Good to know," she nodded at him._

* * *

" _Reducto_!" Hermione exclaimed.

A fierce glare was etched onto her face as she dueled Death Eaters left and right.

"Hermione! Behind you!" Ron yelled, she spun on her heel, sending a Bombarda curse at the man in front of her.

The spell should have landed on the man spot on, making him explode like an overheated chili con carne, except it seemed to flow right through him, hitting the wall of Hogwarts. As blocks of the school went flying in every direction the Death Eater smirked and raised his wand.

" _Sectumsempra_!" He shouted.

Hermione only had a brief second to curse Snape for teaching the Death Eaters his invention before it hit her. Or well, the shield that appeared around her.

" _Impedimenta_!" A male voice yelled, making the Death Eater fly backwards off of the Hogwarts cliff.

She turned to thank her savior, surprised when she noticed the white blond hair. He was fighting, defending her and himself with everything he had. She rejoined the battle, back to back with Malfoy. However, every now and then her spells seemed to disappear into thin air or pass harmlessly through her enemies.

"Mione!" Ron exclaimed trying to reach her.

"Ron! Find Harry!" She ordered him.

If things kept on like this, she wouldn't last long, not if her magic continued going haywire. Of course, she wasn't aware that her magic was perfectly fine. It was the Universe that was having trouble. It could be considered rather unfortunate that all the magic and spells mixing in an already magic soaked location, with ancient magic running through the very veins of the soil they stood on, was making time and space tremble and shake like an unstable light bulb. This overload of spells, of body magic flowing from the witches and wizards, and from magic as old as Merlin himself in the ground, was creating a time vortex that could easily kill everyone in the Hogwarts courtyard, if not all of Scotland.

"I'm not leaving you!" Ron claimed.

Hermione watched in horror as another one of her spells missed her target and completely destroyed a whole section of a wall. She had to make Ron leave, Malfoy couldn't and wouldn't be able to protect both of them for much longer. If Ron were to see her fail, he would be crushed and possibly become an easy target.

"Harry's the only one who can end this! Voldemort will never stop! Find Harry, he's our only hope!" Ron hesitated for just a moment before turning and racing towards the Great Doors, hurrying up the steps.

"Ron! No!" Hermione screamed, terrified as she saw her friend get hit by a nasty spell and crumble to the floor.

She knew she couldn't attack the offender directly so she decided to levitate the huge blocks of Hogwart ruins and slam them against the black cloaked man. Hermione frowned when she realized that she could not touch actual people with her magic but that the school was still fully responsive to her magic. This was easily explained by the fact that she was currently standing on the heart of the school's magic, the heart where Merlin himself had placed an ounce of his magical core, and a place where decades later, the Four Founders would also each place an ounce of their magic, hoping to make Hogwarts the most magical building in the world.

Hermione saw the black haired mother shooting spells left and right, her eyes desperately seeking out her son. "Malfoy!" Hermione yelled, to attract his attention.

Pain overwhelmed her senses when her shoulder was ripped apart. She screamed in pain, tears coming to her eyes. He glanced at her over his shoulder, not taking his attention away from his attacker.

"Malfoy, it's your mother!" She told him.

Those seemed to be the only incentive he needed as he quickly took out the man opposite him and ran over to his mother who was not being picky on who she cursed, simply waving her wand at whoever dared sending a spell her way. Now alone, Hermione was practically defenseless. Although, she noticed the world start to slow down. People seemed to be moving in slow motion as Hermione observed a green spell drift by her harmlessly. The moment was a brief reprieve, before everything seemed to move in fast-forward.

"No!" Hermione screamed, turning around in circles, her head spinning left and right.

She tried to make out the people around her but they seemed to be fading in and out of focus. Suddenly Malfoy was by her side again, fighting. That was when Hermione  
understood that time wasn't moving in fast-forward but backwards. Gradually, everyone around her disappeared, becoming nothing more than moving blobs of colour, until they were no longer even that. It was similar to her time travelling in her third year but in much more extreme, everything was going backwards ten times faster and the only thing she could make out, the only thing that remained was the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was no longer destroyed or burning but standing proud and tall. Hermione noticed that there was snow around her now and gasped as she realized that she was moving much farther back in time than she had ever been.

Then everything stopped. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. For an indiscernable moment in time nothing existed, not even Hermione herself if it even made sense. It did to Hermione; she glanced down at her body, gasping when she couldn't make out where it started and where it ended. Of course, she could see it but her fingers seemed to mix into the darkness and she couldn't feel anything below her knees. She could feel magic flowing through her and though she didn't know where she was she knew the flow of power was starting at her feet and spreading all over her body, her muscles soaking it up, her brain stocking it and her heart absorbing it. She could hear her heart pounding a mile a minute; she could feel the pumping of magic coming from the ground. For just a moment she was one with the earth, unknowingly swallowing the magic the earth was offering her. The magic of five of the greatest wizards in the world. Then everything stopped. Hermione could see Hogwarts again, she could see the brilliant moon shining in the pitch black sky and she saw the couple standing under an arch way, staring at her in shock before the whole world went black.

* * *

"Shall we take a stroll Minerva?" Albus offered with a smile.

"If you insist," Minerva sighed, as if his request were a chore.

Linking arms the pair wandered through Hogwarts and up to the Great Doors. They paused at the top of the stairs and Dumbledore glanced up at the moon.

"It will be a full moon in three weeks."

"You have prepared everything for the boy, yes?" McGonagall checked.

He nodded. "The small shack, just outside of Hogsmead is ready for his arrival. He'll be able to get there through the Whomping Willow that I planted at the beginning of the  
summer. It has already grown."

"Do you think it wise to make him have to go through such a dangerous tree?"

"You know there is a safe way to get past the tree. The tree will protect him during the full moons. As well as others," Albus said.

McGonagall smiled, following him as they started down the steps.

" _BOMBARDA_!" A female voice shouted.

The pair stumbled at the sudden shake when the wall beside them exploded. Dumbledore was quick to cast a shield, making blocks of rubble bounce off it harmlessly. Both stood, wands at the ready, searching for the attacker. However the courtyard was empty. Not a soul was present. They stayed in a ready position, wary to let their guard down.

" _Impedimenta_!" A male voice yelled, much quieter, as if he were farther away.

It was silent for a few seconds before the girl spoke again.

"Ron! Find Harry!" It said.

Albus and Minerva glanced at each other, curious. Neither had ever experienced anything like this. The girl must have sent a curse because half the wall on their left  
exploded. Minerva's eyebrows flew up. The girl must be a very capable witch to be able to perform such spells nonverbally.

"I'm not leaving without you!" Someone claimed, this one sounding even more distant as if he were on the other side of the cliff.

"Harry's the only one who can end this! Voldemort will never stop! Find Harry, he's our only hope!" The couple gasped at her words looking around in horror.

What they were witnessing - or hearing they should say - was due to Voldemort? How terrible had things truly become? Whispers of his terror had not yet even begun,  
Minerva thought.

"Ron! No!" Minerva almost felt tears gather in her eyes at the absolute terror and pain in those two words.

Ruins beside them lifted off the ground and with incredible speed slammed to the left, crashing into the outdoor corridor. Dumbledore took hold of his colleagues arm, realizing that they were standing in the invisible woman's attack range and were at risk of being hit by one of her curses.

"Malfoy!" She hollered, frustration and anger in her voice.

The couple gasped, knowing how close that family was to the dark arts. Did this mean that the family would side with the Dark Lord? Dumbledore had suspected it. She  
screamed in pain, obviously having been hit, before speaking again.

"Malfoy, it's your mother!"

Unexpectedly, a figure appeared in the middle of the court yard. Well, not a figure exactly but more of a shadow. Barely there, only visible if you were looking right at it with the intent of seeing it, which was currently the case of the older wizards.

"No!" The figure screamed, turning around and around in panic.

Minerva looked at the Headmaster, at a loss for what was happening. She felt fear peak in her when she noticed that he was quite in the same situation as her. Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world a girl appeared in the middle of the courtyard. She was covered in blood from head to toe, both dry and fresh, some visibly hers, some from others. Her clothes were ripped and covered in dirt and mud, her hair was in complete disarray and sticking to her face and head. She had an unimaginable amount of wounds and bruises and her eyes were wild with fear, anger, disbelief and sadness. Her eyes met theirs and not a moment later she was unconscious on the ground, in a puddle of her own blood. After a half second of shock they hurried to her side, Minerva falling to her knees and casting a few healing charms while Dumbledore summoned Poppy.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," he murmured.


	2. Chapter 2: Delacour

**A/N: Here's the second chapter which I hope you'll all enjoy as much as the first ! Tell me what you think please !**

He brought her to the Hospital Wing where Mrs. Pomfrey was already pulling out her vials and bandages.

"Oh!" She exclaimed in shock upon seeing the victim. "My, but she's nothing more than a child!" She whispered upon closer inspection.

"Indeed," Dumbledore murmured, eyeing the child lying on the hospital bed, having a feeling that she was not as much a child as she appeared.

Few, if any, children knew the spells she had uttered and none had her obvious magical talent.

"Albus, I'm afraid you may need to step out, I'm going to have to undress her," Poppy told him.

"Do you wish for me to request the aid of Saint Mungo's? I'm sure they could spare a Healer or two." He said, while stepping behind the curtain.

"I think it would be best," Poppy agreed, casting a diagnostic spell. "Why Albus! I'm afraid that I don't know a quarter of these spells and some, my wand can't even recognize!"

Dumbledore's eyebrows arched at her words. "How peculiar... It would seem that this young girl has been attacked with spells that have yet to be officially recorded."

"How is that possible? Only Casters can create spells!" Minerva claimed.

He nodded gravely. "I venture to guess that this young lady is not of this time."

"A Time Traveller, you say?" Poppy proclaimed eyes wide. "Those are extremely rare Albus! Not to mention dangerous! It is not something to jest about!"

"Indeed I do not jest, Poppy! If you had seen what Minerva and I witnessed in the courtyard, you would understand."

"He speaks the truth Poppy, I do not believe she purposefully time travelled. It appeared to be quite against her will that it happened," Minerva soothed.

"From when do you suppose she came then?"

"At least a couple years from now. She mentioned the name Voldemort, it seemed like she was fighting the war against him," Dumbledore observed sadly.

"He must become very powerful in the next few years if he is able to start a war outright," McGonagall stated.

"Heal her well, Poppy, call me as soon as she wakes," Dumbledore ordered.

"Let the poor girl regain her strength," Poppy admonished.

"I do not think we have time to wait. If there is to be war in a short number of years, I wish to be informed," Albus spoke coolly.

"You know she can not reveal what she knows! We're not talking about a three hour time travel here Albus, but of years! That's against the law!"

"This is why everything that happened here tonight will stay between us three. We are the only ones that can know. She will join Hogwarts when school starts. She will live out the rest of her life here like any other student. We shall agree to a back story with her when she wakes up. We will find someone for her to live with, trust worthy people who will take her in, no questions asked."

The three Hogwarts staff members eyed the young girl, not understanding how she could have gotten here and fretting over all the reasons why she had travelled through time.

* * *

 _For you, Hermione Granger…_

 _This Magical Core comes from Merlin himself…_

Those sentences echoed in Hermione's mind as she sat in what appeared to be never ending peaceful abyss. She mulled the words over and over as the different voices repeated themselves. She sat legs crossed, staring into nothing as she thought, not realizing the time going by. Suddenly she could feel a dull throbbing pain in the far recesses of her brain, and as the pain grew, it became harder for her to ignore. She gasped and jumped up, her body tense as she awoke with a scream. People were moving around her, their gestures frantic, pushing her panic to the limit. All she could remember were the Death Eaters attacking her, trying to kill her and all she could feel was the pain from the curses that had struck true.

Hermione started crying when she was forcibly pushed down onto the bed, her tears a mix of fear and unbearable pain. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her sobs wracking through her figure. Someone was trying to speak to her but Hermione's mind couldn't seem to understand the words passing in the air.

"Please, please," she begged, for what exactly she wasn't sure.

The female voice that had been trying to reassure her paused and Hermione saw her shadow turn away, obviously speaking to someone else.

"Miss please calm down, you need to swallow this calming draught," the woman tried again.

Hermione was surprised that she had finally understood something spoken to her, as she gasped, unable to stop herself. Her mind seemed to come back under her control and she looked around, taking in her surroundings at last and easily recognizing the place she was currently in. The hands holding her down carefully released her as Hermione's body relaxed noticeably. A vial was pushed gently against her lips and Hermione swallowed the liquid down greedily.

She dropped her head back onto the pillow and her gaze fell on the people around her bed: two mediwitches she did not know, a bizarrely younger Mrs. Pomfrey and a barely changed Professor Dumbledore. She smiled at them serenely, the potion she had drank taking effect.

"Professor Dumble…" She trailed off, her eyelids drooping. "… how… now?" She mumbled.

After those seemingly meaningless words, Hermione drifted off to sleep under the curious gaze of the four adults.

"It appears she knows who I am, and yet we remain clueless as to her identity," Dumbledore spoke with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let her rest and when she wakes up fully aware of her surroundings, call me."

* * *

Hermione sighed, relaxed as she opened her eyes and turned her head towards the open curtain. She smiled when she saw the young Mrs. Pomfrey bustling about her office, even though school hadn't even started yet. At least Hermione suspected it hadn't. She frowned, leaning against her forearms and taking a long look around the Hospital Wing. No, it didn't look like school had begun yet.

"My dear girl, are you willing to speak with us now?" Dumbledore inquired, as he stepped into the room and noticed her open eyes.

"May I ask a few questions first, Sir? I find myself quite-um-," her eyes snapped over to her old Transfiguration teacher who stood next to the Headmaster. "Confused by what is happening. I really don't understand what became of the school, much less why you are here looking like you are…" She trailed off, her mind taking her through a maze that no one would understand but that made perfect sense to herself.

Her brown eyes widened in realization. "Oh my," she mumbled, raising a bandaged hand to rub her temple.

Hermione remained silent as she observed all the adults in the room. She knew she could trust all three of them as they were all future Order members, or were they already Order members? For the life of her, Hermione couldn't figure out when she was and thus she couldn't know if the Order of the Phoenix existed yet. Though that was neither here nor there. She _should_ tell them everything, indeed, judging from the calculating look in Dumbledore's eyes, they had already figured out that she was a Time Traveller. She supposed it was good news that she hadn't already been turned into the Ministry which would have been the natural procedure for someone travelling as far back as she obviously had. Of course, they didn't know from when she came so perhaps they were still waiting to discover that information before handing her in.

Hermione bit her bottom lip to keep herself from blabbering her inner thought process aloud. She knew she should speak as they continued to stare at her expectantly but Hermione's conscious seemed to hold her back as she looked at Dumbledore, a slightly wary glint in her gaze. No matter how good his intentions were, Dumbledore was a master at manipulation. And Hermione was woman enough to admit that she was not in the mood to be manipulated any which way for the greater good. No, in fact she had had quite enough of that at the moment.

However, the fact remained that she needed to tell someone. Hermione quickly brought to mind the list of Order Member's and eliminated everyone that was underage. As she thought over the remaining names, her mind pushed forward one particular name. She hesitated as he wasn't technically an Order Member despite the fact that he had fought for the Order. It was rapidly decided for her, however. She would trust Aberforth with her information as he was powerful, under the radar and definitely less meddlesome than Dumbledore.

She breathed in deeply before shaking her head. "I wish to speak with Aberforth first," she stated, her tone leaving little room for argument.

Albus shared a brief look with Minerva before nodding and waving his wand sending a flying letter to his brother.

The trio sat silently waiting for the other man to arrive and just when the silence started to grow heavy and awkward a tall, intimidating man with shabby clothes strolled in confidently.

"I will soon stop coming when you call me brother. In case you hadn't noticed, I do not _need_ to answer to your beck and call."

"Some information is too dangerous to put on paper, as you very well know," Albus replied calmly.

"To you all information is dangerous. What was it this time? Did your _Order_ fail?"

"No. In fact, I summoned you because of this young lady here," Dumbledore waved towards Hermione who was still lying on the hospital bed.

Aberforth's eyes flew to the small group, a frown growing on his face as he studied Hermione's unimpressive form.

Hermione sat up, back straight and chin high. "My dear, you shouldn't sit up yet, you've only just woken up," Poppy commented gently, as she checked her injuries.

"I wish to speak with Aberforth," she paused when no one moved. "Alone."

The other occupants sighed and nodded as they all gathered their things and left the room. Aberforth had yet to approach her and instead observed her from his place near the door with his eyebrows raised. Once everyone had left the room they remained silent for a while still before Hermione motioned to the chair by her bedside.

"Would you like to sit?"

"I'm comfortable as it is, thank you," Aberforth refused, but came closer none the less.

Hermione nodded, looking out the window thoughtfully. "I'm not quite sure where to start," she admitted quietly.

"Why not from the start?" Aberforth offered, his tone bored but his eyes betraying his slowly growing curiosity.

"First, could you place a few privacy wards and silencing charms around us? That is if you don't mind?"

"Why?" Ab wanted to know, his gaze wary but doing as she asked anyway.

"Otherwise I'm sure Dumbledore would somehow know of every word we said."

Ab snorted. "Wise girl."

When he was done he stood at the foot of her bed and waited patiently for her to start her story. "This is all very confusing for me Mr. Dumbledore. I only vaguely have an idea of what might have happened to me and, if what I suspect is true, then the less people know about my past, the better."

"What might your past be?"

"War and destruction. Death and loss. I can't go into the details of what occurred or else I could ruin everything. Situations such as mine are a very delicate matter and must be treated with utmost care."

"And what exactly is your situation?"

"I seem to have travelled through time," Aberforth's curiosity peaked and he stepped forward in order to hear her small voice better. "I do not know how or why it happened, but it did and I don't know how to fix it."

"From when do you come?" He wanted to know.

"I can't remember the exact date as I had no way of keeping up to date back then but I'm almost certain it was May 1998."

"1998? That is a very long way away. You are now in the year 1971. August 29th to be exact and if my brother's letter is anything to go by, you've been asleep for a week and a half."

"1971? So the Order _has_ been created."

"You know of my brother's attempt to build a sort of secret resistance group against one measly wizard?" Aberforth sneered.

"Yes, in fact that 'sort of resistance group' ends up saving over a hundred lives directly and all of Great Britain indirectly," Hermione spoke angrily.

She may not agree with all of Dumbledore's methods but she still admired the man greatly and it went without saying that the Light Side would have suffered from a much greater loss without him.

"Anyway that's beside the point. What's important right now is that I need your help."

"My help? Why not my brother's if he's such a hero?"

"Albus Dumbledore has a number of redeeming qualities but he does tend to manipulate situations to his liking without warning those around him and frankly I'm no longer willing to be manipulated. I would much rather do the manipulating this time around."

Aberforth chuckled throatily. "I believe I'm starting to quite like you. You're careful of Albus unlike everyone else around. You're smart and far wiser than your years."

"I went through a war, Sir and helped defeat the Darkest Wizard of all time. I like to think I'm somewhat more mature than those around me."

"Helped defeat? Is the future world in such despair that it entrusts such serious matters to a child?"

"A child?" Hermione repeated, her voice almost afraid. "How old do you think I am?" She demanded.

"If I had to guess I'd say around ten years old," he shrugged.

"What?!" Hermione screeched, not caring about her health as she summoned a full length mirror and lept from the bed.

As Hermione stood before the mirror she raked her eyes over her small body. She had been so concentrated on her Time-Travelling and deciding what she would tell people she had failed to notice that her body had shrunk to half it's previous size. Her hair had become horribly bushy once again, no longer the crazy but controllable mess of curls from her teenage years. Her two front teeth had doubled in size once again, returning to the signature buck teeth she had been mercilessly teased for in her childhood.

"Bloody hell," she muttered in shock.

* * *

"What do you mean she just fainted?"

"She jumped to look at her reflection and then after a few seconds she fainted out of the blue," Aberforth explained with a careless shrug. "I think I'll be leaving."

"Was she done speaking with you?" Albus checked.

"I don't think-."

"Then you will be staying right here."

"Very well," Aberforth agreed with a tired sigh.

"It was a very light faint. She'll be waking soon, Albus," Madame Pomfrey informed the group.

"Then we will wait," Minerva stated, making an arm chair appear in the room and sitting down on it gracefully.

Albus and Minerva discussed the approaching arrival of Hogwart students while Poppy seemed unable to relax, casting spells and checking up on all of Hermione's wounds. Aberforth sat silently, staring intently at the young girl until she woke up. Finally, Hermione moaned and her eyes fluttered open.

Not wasting a second, Aberforth leaned forward refusing to break his eye contact with the witch. "Why did you ask for me, Hermione?" He asked, his voice low and thoughtful.

Hermione shifted on the bed, wincing slightly. Her face was as blank as it had ever been, her eyes serious when she responded. "Because I trust you to let me be and help me only when I ask for it."

Aberforth understood exactly what she meant, his gaze flying towards Albus, leaving the others extremely confused.

He nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. "I see," he murmured. "Then tell me what you want of me."

"I want to know if there is even a slight possibility for me to go home."

Aberforth squinted at her. "I would need to know more about you in order to answer you as truthfully as possible," he explained.

"Surely there is some information you can share without upsetting the timeline?" Albus inquired.

"I suppose," Hermione hesitated. "My name is Hermione Granger and I was born on the 19th of September, 1979 and last I knew, I was in the year 1998 and 18 years old."

"That would explain your reaction to your physique," Dumbledore chuckled with a nod of his head.

Hermione smiled at him, sharing the humour of the situation. "Before I arrived here, I was at Hogwarts, in the courtyard, fighting what we all hoped was going to be the Final Battle. Everyone was there, Death Eaters, Ministry Officials, Order Members, the Hogsmeade villagers, even centaurs and giants. Most importantly there was Harry and Voldemort, with everything that needed to be done, done. I don't know how it happened but after a few moments where my spells afftected nothing but the school, time started moving backwards and I found myself here."

"So let me get this straight," Aberforth interrupted. "You travelled through time, completely unexpectedly and turned eleven again in the process?" Hermione nodded. "Then I'm afraid there's nothing we can do," he stated plainly.

"What do you mean?"

"Time Travelling is not something to take lightly. Wizards take travelling back in time very seriously, even if only done over a time period of a few hours. In the whole of the Wizarding World only one person alive knows how to make a Time Turner. An Unspeakable, who only once he is close to death, shares his knowledge with his successor, a person very carefully chosen, someone the Unspeakable will have observed for years previously. That is why so few Time Turners exist, not to mention that it takes a decade to create just one. Terrible things happen to Wizards who mess with time, as we all know. We are wary of meddling with time as it is one of the only things we can never truly understand. Because of this, all Time Turners made can move no further back than a day and never forward. Indeed, moving forward in time, even if just a second, is something Wizards will never attempt. Seers see possiblities, not fates, they see what is most likely to happen to one person should they make a certain decision. The future does not exist until we make it. What would happen to a Wizard or Witch who went forward in time, to a time they have yet to experience, a time that has yet to exist? It is impossible to know. There are many theories of course, though none shall be proven.

"In addition, there are rules to respect while travelling, such as never going back further in time than your date of birth. Time Turners are made so as to avoid such situations. How could one travel to before their birth if they can only go back a few days at the most? The effects on the universe of going back to a time from before you were born would be catastrophic. There is no doubt that a person would be zapped out of existence. You can not be in a world where you have not existed. Travelling to such a time with a Time Turner would be certain death.

"So, my dear girl, the fact that you are still very much alive shows us that your time travelling was something out of the ordinary. Something never done before. The possibility for you to go home is none-existent, at least, not unless the forces that sent you here decide to send you back."

Hermione frowned, slightly disappointed but she was the brightest witch of her generation for a reason, and had expected that it would most likely be impossible. "I suspected as much," she nodded. "What does this mean for me?"

"It means that you are stuck here for the rest of your life my dear. The futur you know, no longer exists. Not yet at any rate."

"So what should I do, even if it no longer exists, I shouldn't be here, it's wrong. My presence could change everything."

"It might yes," Dumbledore agreed, joining the conversation. "Our conscious would not allow us to throw you out into the streets, even if that may appear as the safest reaction. We will create a backstory for you and you will attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry like any other eleven year old. You will blend in and pretend to be your average, everyday student. You will have a normal life Hermione and do everything you can to keep your secret hidden. Should the wrong person learn about it, you and everyone else would be in grave danger. Voldemort would stop at nothing to capture you."

"Of course, I agree. I never intended to tell anyone. I know risks."

"Very well, if that is the case, I have found a young man who is willing to adopt you as his own, or act as your legal guardian."

"What is his name?" She wondered.

"Guillaume Delacour-"

Hermione choked on a surprised laugh. "Delacour? Had to be them, didn't it?"

"You know of them?"

"I knew some of his descendants rather well," Hermione replied.

"Then you should feel right at home," Albus smiled. "He is a young French bachelor who lives in Paris and would love some extra company during the holidays. He is more than happy to share his name with you."

"You mean to say, I would be a Delacour?" Dumbledore nodded. "Merlin, if Ginny could hear this."

"And how would you explain her coming to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons?"

"Simply she would be the daughter of his second cousin Philippine and François Delacour, who as we were made aware a month ago, were brutally murdered. Unfourtunately, none of young Miss Delacour's close family were eager to take her in when they heard she was the only one to have survived the attack. So despite enjoying his single and free life, Guillaume Delacour welcomed the young girl as a little sister, daughter, friend, whichever you prefer. Both hoping for a new start they moved to England and Guillaume decided that sending his distant cousin to Hogwarts would be best and practical."

"It's sounds plausible enough," Hermione agreed.

She saw no problem with going to live with a man of Dumbledore's choice, the Delacour family was a respectable and honourable one to be sure. Though she would be careful to not reveal anything too important to the man, in case he was spying for Dumbledore.

"What do you need me for then Miss Delacour?" Aberforth questioned.

"I only need to know that you will be willing to help me if ever I should come and ask you."

"That is something I suppose I can do."

Hermione grinned at him. "Thank you, Sir."

"Though I do have one thing to say before you get all excited," he paused. "None of this will work if you can't speak French."

* * *

"Hello, I hear you're to be the new Miss Delacour," a man spoke as he approached the young girl.

"Thank you so much for letting me take your name," Hermione said, shyly.

"No need to thank me, any decent man would have done the same! It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Guillaume Delacour," he claimed, clasping her hand in his and kissing it along with a gracious bow.

"Hermione Gr-Delacour, forgive me, that will take some getting used to."

"Understandable, I assure you," he laughed. "Shall we be off? Much to do and little time to do it in!"

Nodding Hermione straightened out her outfit and with a childish giggle, took the arm he offered her, following him out of the room where they had met. They discussed many topics on their way out of the Hogwart grounds, appartating as soon as they crossed the large, intimidating gates.

"Follow me," he instructed as he pushed a small fence open, leading her into a quiant garden. "This is your home from now on, so feel free to do as you wish."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Please, none of that, I feel like an old man. I may have adopted you but I'm not that much older than you. Call me Guillaume."

"How old are you, Guillaume?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"Twenty, my dear, and counting."

"How is it you speak such perfect English?"

"Grew up in Ireland until my 13th year, then I moved to France with my family."

"That explains the slight accent."

"And you, appartently you speak clean French, how is that?"

"My mother was half French, so we often went over there to visit family during every holiday. It was tradition. I'll miss that."

" _Ma chérie_ , I can't say that I hope you'll get over the pain, one can never forget the pain of a lost loved one, and you lost all in one go, but I hope that I will fill the void within to at least some extent. I will be for you, whatever you need me to be, a brother, friend, father, cousin even an acquaintance if you wish to keep your distance from me."

Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes and a watery smile. " _Je ne refuserais pas un frère, j'en ai jamais eu."_

Guillaume smiled at her affectionately and cupped her face in his large hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "I'll be the best big brother you could ever ask for, _ma puce_."

"Thank you."

He shook his head. "Never thank someone for their affection, Hermione. Simply show your gratitude by caring for them in return."

 **A/N: Here's the second chapter of this TT story. Yes, Hermione is 11 again. Yes, she will meet the Marauders in the next chapter (probably). Yes, she will end up meddling but only in a few years. Please, please tell me what you think, it really motivates me to write more! And thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter, I'm glad you enjoyed it! And thank you to those who pointed out a few mistakes, I corrected them but there might still be some left... If there are any in this chapter, please notify me, politely (preferably) and I will fix them! (Whether they are spelling, vocabulary or whatnot).**

 **Thank you again! Enjoy! Review!**

 **Thank you Guest Lala for requesting translations... Didn't think about it!**

 _Ma chérie -_ Darling

 _Ma puce -_ Sweetie

 _Je ne refuserais pas un frère, j'en ai jamais eu. -_ I wouldn't say no to the possiblity of a brother, I've never had one.


	3. Chapter 3: Going back to Hogwarts

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Unfortunately, I can't promise you an exact date for my next update. Things are pretty hectic here in Paris at the moment, everything is shut down, as you most likely know... I hope you are still in the mood to read my chapter despite it all..But I will write more either way, this story is not nearly close to being over!**

Hermione was sitting on the couch, cradling a steaming cup of hot chocolate from Angelina's, Paris' best melted chocolate and milk drink, according to Guillaume.

"Are you almost done?" Guillaume asked, checking his watch.

Hermione glanced inside her cup and nodded. "Yes. It's delicious, thank you again for making that last cup for me."

He waved away her thanks carelessly. "It was my pleasure, one day I'll even take you to Angelina's store, you'll love it. Nothing beats drinking one of their cups in the building. It's in an old Parisian building, decorated like an ostentatious French castle. Truly magical."

"I look forward to going," Hermione agreed, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. She took a last sip and licked her lips so as to not waste a single drop. "Well, shall we head out?"

"If you're ready," he nodded, standing and moving over to the fireplace. "We'll be flooing to the Leaky Cauldron, of course. After you, my lady."

"How gentlemanly!" Hermione teased.

"I am a French man, my dear, what did you expect?" He joked.

When the pair arrived, they quickly dusted themselves off as they went towards the entrance of Diagon Alley.

"We'll have to stop by Gringotts first," he informed her, leading the way through the overly crowded, narrow street.

Hermione couldn't help but notice how everything looked exactly the same as in her time, there was even the perpetual group of young boys gathered around the Quidditch supply store, staring in awe at the lastest broom addition. They finally stepped into the busy and dusty entrance hall of Gringotts and at the sight of the long waiting line that crossed the whole hall, Hermione sighed, realizing that she would most likely spend most of her day in here, waiting with Guillaume. The older man however, strode forward, passing everyone, ignoring the disgruntled glares he was receiving. Hermione followed him shyly, grimacing nervously at the people staring at her as they stopped in front of the only free desk, occupied by an extremely grumpy looking goblin.

"The line, young wizard, starts over there."

" _Que votre or se multiplie et que vos ennemies périssent,_ " Guillaume said in return, ignoring his first statement.

The goblin's eyebrows rose at the greeting and stood from his seat, bowing ever so discreetly to the blond haired man. "Indeed, how may I help you?" Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the goblin's sudden change in attitude, all because of one simple sentence, she would have to question Guillaume about that later.

"I recently transferred all my riches to one of your vaults under the name Guillaume Delacour."

The goblin flicked his hand and a large register opened. "Vault 316," he read, his long nail tracing the words. "Do you have your wand Sir?"

"Of course," Guillaume spoke, pulling out his long wand and handing it to the goblin.

"We will also need a drop of your blood in order for you to open it," he said, taking the wand.

"I am aware."

"Very well, follow me."

The duo trailed after the goblin, who brought them to a private and much tidier room. He offered them both a seat and then proceeded to prick Guillaume's finger. Guillaume smiled at the questions he could see filling Hermione's gaze.

"I had my fortune transferred here as it would be easier to access now that I live in London and as it's a high security vault, they have to check my identity before opening it," he explained.

After a few minutes, another goblin entered, holding a scroll in his hands. "Mr Delacour?" He verified.

"That is me."

Satisfied, the goblin unrolled the parchment and started to recite what he read. "On the 20th of August, Mr Guillaume Mickaël François Usoxius Delacour conducted a transaction, transferring all his fortunes to Gringotts Wizarding Bank of London, to vault number 316. Owner of vault: Mr Guillaume Delacour. Administrators: Miss Hermione Ewfyne Delacour. Do you request any changes?"

"Everything seems to be in order, thank you," Guillaume shook his head.

"You're giving me full access to your vault?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Why would I not? I adopted you as my sister, I will take responsibility for you. You are my family now."

"What about when you get a real family? A wife, daughter or son of your own? What if you used up all of your fortune on me?"

"Hermione, I may only be getting to know you but one day you will be as important to me as any wife and daughter. You may not be related to me by blood, but you are my sister. You have been since I agreed to adopt you."

Guillaume glanced at her through the corner of his eyes. "I don't know what happened to you, Dumbledore wouldn't go into the details. He only said that you had been through a traumatizing event but just looking at you I could see that. He told me that you lost all your family and friends in one go, so I hope you know that I'll be here for you, no matter what."

"You're a wonderful man Guillaume, Apolline will be lucky to have you," Hermione murmured.

"Who's Apolline?" He inquired with a large grin on his face.

Hermione paled considerably as she realized her small slip. "Oh, no one of consequence," she responded, hastily. "Yet," she breathed quietly.

Guillaume smiled, as he asked to take out 300 galleons and took her arm as they left the bank. "To which store do you wish to go to?"

"Ollivanders first, I will feel much better once I have a wand," Hermione said, knowing she had lost her wand sometime during her trip to the past.

She figured it was logical that it disappeared, she couldn't keep a wand that the Wand Maker perhaps hadn't made yet nor sold. She would most likely find it again in the store today. They immediately went straight to the wand store and quickly ducked inside, causing the little bell above the door to ring loudly. Hermione could feel the same butterflies from her first time entering the store coming back to her in this moment. There was a brief silence as they waited for Ollivander to come serve them. Finally, there was the sharp snap of his rolling ladder hitting the edge of the shelf and the old man himself leaned over, eyeing the couple in his shop.

"Hello there, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting either of you before..." He trailed off as he climbed down his ladder.

"I bought my wand at the age of nine in France and we're here now for my sister's wand," Guillaume explained.

Ollivander nodded, throwing his measuring tape into the air, which floated over to Hermione. "Ah yes, the French customs are very different from ours, they start so much younger. Why is your young sister not following the French way?" He wondered curiously.

"She grew up in England so she's more British than she is French," Guillaume explained.

"Hmmm," was the only response they got as Ollivander wandered through his shelves, filled to the brim with wands covered in dust and spiderwebs. "So many to choose from. You're a smart witch, so you'll be needing a smart wand..." He murmured to himself.

Hermione had long since stopped wondering how he managed to know people so well with just a glance. She supposed it came with the craftmanship and that all Wand Makers were the same.

"Perhaps this one, one of my best carved work," he said, handing her a black box.

Hermione took it carefully, pulling the wand out gently. She gasped when she saw the beautiful black wand in her grip. She could recognize that wand anywhere, in anytime, it was so remarkable and impossible to forget. She remember the feeling of envy she had felt the first time she had seen him with it. She completely understood why the long, smooth black piece of wood with the intricate designs carved on the handle was one of his favorits, Hermione doubted she would ever find a wand more beautiful, even her old ivy leaf wand was not as awe inspiring. Shaking her head she put it back inside, knowing that the wand would never belong to her, it had been made for Severus Snape, not her.

"Alright, then would you prefer this one," he offered.

And so it went, Hermione lost count of the number of wands she had tried, even passing her old ivy leaf wand regretfully, until finally, Ollivander pulled out a slim dark green bow from the very back of his store. Though Hermione was starting to loose hope of finding a new wand, Ollivander's gaze kept growing more and more excited. Everyone was well aware of the fact that he adored a challenging client.

"This my dear, is one of my most prized possessions, I have not presented it to many wizards or witches, as none has ever seemed worthy. You, however, have rejected some of my best wands, some I was certain would choose you. So I offer you this one now, in the hopes that you will be it's master."

Hermione reached for the open box with shaking fingers and removed the delicate material protecting the wand. She bit her lower lip and glanced at Guillaume who was watching her with amusement and curiousity. As her hand hovered over the exposed wand she chanced one last look at Ollivander who was staring at her hand in something akin to hunger and uncontrollable excitement. Taking a deep breath Hermione picked up the wand that was so dark it looked close to black but in the light, one could notice a few green reflections. No sooner had Hermione touched it, than she knew that this was her new wand from this moment on.

"Acacia, unyeilding, eleven inches, Phoenix feather," he informed her, the hungry glint still lingering in his gaze. "A wand made long ago, not of my creation."

Frowning, Hermione looked away from the delicate symbols carved into the handle. "Who made it then?"

"An ancestor of mine, the original Ollivander. At first I didn't understand why it was even made in the first place, being composed of the rarest and most picky elements, I grew to believe that it was still in the store because it refused to choose a wizard or witch. However, on the day I decided to remove it from my stock, something prevented me from doing so. It felt as if the wand was telling me to wait, that it would choose someone, just not yet... And so I listened, only ever taking the wand out for the clients who rejected the most wands."

He paused taking a breath. "I do not know what you should expect out of this wand Miss Delacour, but use it well, it will only ever be loyal to you. You will be able to do great things with this wand but do not allow the power it gives you to consume you."

* * *

"Will you come stay with me during the Christmas holidays, Hermione?" Guillaume inquired.

"Of course, it's not like I have anywhere else to go and even if I did, you're my family now," Hermione answered.

"Wonderful, I'll be waiting for you right here then," Guillaume exclaimed, hugging her tightly. "We'll spend the holidays together, but we'll have to spend Christmas Day with the rest of my family, I hope that's alright with you?"

"If I'm to really be your sister then it's only natural that I meet the rest of the family, isn't it?" Hermione teased.

"I suppose... They'll simply love you, you'll charm them just like you charmed me."

Hermione felt tears fill her eyes and smiled at her brother. "When I lost my family, I thought for sure I would never get a new one. Thank you for giving me a chance."

"It's an honour to be considered your family Hermione, I only hope you will never live to regret it."

They separated from the hug and Guillaume affectionately tucked a few locks of her hair behind her ear. "Enjoy Hogwarts, it's a place like no other."

"I will," Hermione agreed.

"And write to me too."

"Obviously," she stated, rolling her eyes.

"I love you," he yelled after her as she climbed aboard the train.

" _Je t'aime aussi, Guillaume_!" She called back with a giggle and a wave.

* * *

"Do you mind terribly if I join you? All the other compartments are a bit stuffy," Hermione exclaimed, yanking open the sliding door.

The boy sitting just to the left jumped in his seat, the book he was reading flying from his hands in surprise. Hermione levitated the book midair in a knee jerk reaction, floating it back to the sandy haired boy, without so much as a glance at him. Receiving no response from the small boy Hermione moved to sit by the window diagonally across from him. She turned to the boy and, when her gaze landed on him, her full attention was given to him as a large grin spread across her face.

"Hullo, I'm Hermione Delacour! It's a pleasure to meet you!" She tried to speak in an innocent, over excited way that she hoped resembled how she had spoken the first time she met Ron and Harry.

The boy looked around him, as if he thought she was talking to someone else. Hermione smiled sadly when she realized how traumatized Remus Lupin truly was by his condition.

"Um- I'm Remus Lupin," he murmured timidly.

Hermione's expression transformed into a broad grin, nodding at him in acknowledgement. The change did not go unnoticed by Remus and as he pretended to go back to his book, he tried to understand the significance of her sad smile. As if she knew what he was going through. Which, he firmly reassured himself was impossible. You could not tell someone was a werewolf at first glance. Perhaps if she had smiled at him like that a few months later he would have had reason to worry. But no, for now it must have been a smile one shared with a peer who was just as nervous as you on a first day at school.

Remus' conclusion did not prevent him from throwing her sideways glances during the rest of the trip where they shared the compartment. She had pulled out a slim book he didn't recognized, that was titled: _The secrets of time_.

The compartment door opened once again, this time it allowed two boys to stumble in, chuckling in amusement. Hermione resisted the urge to look up at the boys who had just entered the small space. She clearly remembered Remus telling her that his friendship with the Marauders had started in the Hogwarts Express during their first trip to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She ever so slightly turned her body towards to window, in the hopes of seeming unwelcoming and projecting a 'do-not-disturb-me' attitude. She did not want to butcher the forming of their life long friendship. Once the two boys had introduced themselves to Remus however, who seemed incredibly shocked that he had been approached by no less than three young children his age already, they turned towards her expectantly.

Hermione pretented to only just notice their presence when Sirius Black cleared his throat obnoxiously. "Oh! Hullo, I'm Hermione Delacour! I'm afraid I didn't catch your names?"

"I'm Sirius Black."

"And I'm James Potter." The two boys had spoken slowly as if she were silly to not have heard them the first time.

Hermione couldn't hold back her wince when they introduced themselves, but covered it up with a delicate sneeze.

"Charmed," she smiled at them.

She turned to look out the window, hoping the three boys would start discussing things if she ignored them but when she realized that they seemed to be just sitting in somewhat awkward silence she sighed in exasperation, and snapping her book shut loudly, she stood from her seat.

"Excuse me," she apologized, striding for the door.

Hermione paused when she saw Peter Pettigrew walking towards the very door she was moving to. In a split second decision she pushed open the door and crashed into the boy, astutely making him pass the compartement she had just exited.

"I'm terribly sorry!" Peter squeaked.

"Oh no please, it was my fault," Hermione gushed and watched him continue down the hall with her brow furrowed and a satisfied smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

When she turned to walk in the opposite direction she froze midstep when she saw a group of tall sixth year Slytherin students striding towards her with sneers and leers plastered on their faces. Hermione bit her lip, glancing back at where Peter had gone. Perhaps she hadn't made the right decision. Hermione twirled on her heels and hurried after the small chubby boy. After all he may have betrayed the Potters in the end, but one could not deny that Peter Pettigrew served his purpose for the Marauders more than once. And that, at least until his sixth year in Hogwarts, he was unbelievably loyal to them. Besides she wasn't supposed to meddle with the events that were meant to happen. She caught him as he left yet another compartement that had refused he join them, claiming their cabin was "too full". Hermione rolled her eyes at the cruelty that one could find in young children.

"The compartment two doors down has room, if you want," she smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure the three boys in there wouldn't mind sharing."

He looked up at her with wide innocent eyes and Hermione felt a pang of sadness as she tried to figure out the reasons for his future actions. What would cause a sweet boy like the one staring at her with sparkling eyes to deviate so far from an hounorable path? She couldn't for the life of her figure it out but she would keep a close eye on him to try and understand his point of view.

He nodded trustingly and Hermione continued down the wagon, heading for the toilets to change into her uniform.

* * *

The first years were all standing at the top of the entrance stairs, waiting for the doors to the Great Hall to open and let them in. The ghosts had just passed by, boasting the qualities of their houses before disappearing through the wall again, frightening a large part of the group. Hermione stood to the side, trying to avoid interacting with people. She knew she couldn't avoid everyone forever, but she hoped that by the time she started socializing, the original friend groups would already have been formed.

"Hello! My name's Lily Evans and this is Severus Snape! What's your name?"

"Hermione Delacour," Hermione responded shyly, examining her futur professor discreetly and grinning when she caught sight of his magnificent black wand. She had been right to refuse it.

"French?" Lily questioned. "Are there no schools in France then?" She wanted to know when the bushy haired witch nodded.

"There is, Beauxbatons for example, but I moved to England with my brother and we thought it would be easier for me to go to Hogwarts instead," Hermione crossed her fingers that they would not ask more questions.

Lily seemed to notice the other girls reluctance to speak about her current situation because she quickly drifted off onto another subject of discussion. She continued to fill the silence until Minerva McGonagall arrived and ushered the scared first years into the Hall where the older students sat waiting.

"What house do you want to be in Hermione?" Lily inquired. Hermione shrugged, looking around the large space with a nostalgic smile on her lips. "I think I'd like Ravenclaw, I'd do well there," Lily told her.

"Belby, Flavius," McGonagall called.

The boy hurried onto the stage and sat heavily on the stool, looking up wide eyed as the hat was placed on his head. "Ravenclaw!" The hat exclaimed, having only thought about it for a short moment.

Other students passed and before she knew it Hermione was being summonded to the front of the room. "Delacour, Hermione."

Hermione walked slowly up to the hat and placed herself on the absolute edge of the stool as if expecting to need to run away. She had to hold back a startled jump when the Sorting Hat started talking to her inside her head.

" _What a curious student you are, Hermione Delacour, or is it Granger? You can't seem to decide yourself. It is not often that I come across time travellers, but when I do I find them to be the most thrilling to sort. You, my dear, are surely the most fascinating witch I have ever had the pleasure of sorting. You are unlike any other, did you know?"_

"Of course I'm not, I'm a time traveller," Hermione scoffed.

" _Indeed you are, but I was not referring to everyone in this room, I was talking about all other time travellers."_

"What do you mean? You've met other time travellers?"

 _"I mean that your situation is one of a kind. Once I choose a house for you, you should come visit me in the Headmaster's office. You could learn a lot from such a visit, it would not be a waste of your time. However, now is not the time, for now I must simply sort you! But where to put you? You have the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the intelligence of a Ravenclaw_ _, the cunning of a Slytherin and the bravery of a Gryffindor. Four houses in one, how amusing."_

 ** _A/N: Alright people... I stopped here for one simple reason! Not to leave a cliff hanger but to get your opinion! I really can't decide where to sort Hermione. I am hesitating between two houses, I won't say which two so as to not influence your opinion but where do you want to see Hermione? Already a few people have voiced their thoughts on where I should put her and why but it's your turn to tell me what you prefer, or what you think will make this story better!_**

 ** _Give me your choice on where she goes and your opinion of my chapter._**

 ** _Know this: Hermione decided she wouldn't mess with time when she set Peter back on track. However, she doesn't know that what happened to her wasn't exactly time travel... Anyway just in case you didn't follow, Hermione's well and truly stuck in the past because her futur doesn't exist anymore, but she doesn't know/understand this yet. Give her time._**


	4. Chapter 4: Sorted

**A/N: Chapter 4, here it comes! Please excuse all spelling mistakes. I'm suffering from lack of sleep. Don't hesitate to point them out for me so that I can go back and fix them up. I'd greatly appreciate the help! I also always enjoy constructive criticism! Or any crazy ideas you might have, things you want to happen in the story, you never know, maybe I already planned them or perhaps you'll inspire me! So do share if you want to! I, as always, love to get your feedback. What you thought about what I wrote. I'm never perfectly pleased with my chapters, so I like knowing you were happy with it. Just know that every little thing that happens in this story, happens for a reason. For once in my stories nothing is random, at least not yet.**

 **Thank you for all your wonderful reviews! I hope no one is disappointed in where I placed Hermione. I have reasons: 1. Slytherin, though tempting, wasn't possible as she's muggleborn. 2. Gryffindor, again tempting, but even less possible for reasons that will become clear much later. 3. Hufflepuff, love the idea but complicated to work with for certain future reasons.**

 **I hope you don't stop reading the story because of where I placed her! (Does anyone even read these A/N's? I usually try and keep them short but I'm a blabber mouth today.)**

 **Read the end A/N, I have a SURPRISE!**

" _Ravenclaw_!" The hat announced loudly, informing the whole Hogwart's population.

Hermione sat in shock at the announcement. Despite everything, she had been certain that she would be sorted into Gryffindor. It was her home, she belonged no where else... Expect maybe she did. The hat seemed to think so. Standing up slowly and wandering over to her new table, she was greeted with warm smiles and firm handshakes. Hermione looked up at the Gryffindor table and eyed Sirius Black, who had caused shock to spread through the room by being sorted into a house other than Slytherin. Perhaps, she thought, the hat had sorted her into Ravenclaw as a way to show her not to mess with the events that had to happen. It was true that, had she been placed into Gryffindor, at one moment or another she would have ended up extremely tempted to change the things she knew would happen. Now, she could stay away from everyone she knew and let them live their lives. She could pretend they didn't exist.

"Hello, my name's Adrian Malden," the young boy beside her said.

"Hermione Delacour," she nodded.

"Why Hogwarts, Delacour?" He asked with a grin.

"I moved to England recently and we figured it would be less of a hassle," she shrugged, smiling at Adrian and his mess of curly hair falling into his face.

"I take it you like photography?" She gestured to the camera hanging around his neck.

He blushed and smiled at her sheepishly. "It's a hobby, nothing serious but I just had to take it out for my first day at Hogwarts."

"I'd love for you to show me some of your pictures, I'll bet they're wonderful."

"I suppose," he murmured, looking away from her shyly.

The pair continued chatting, while Hermione thought back to the first time she had met the boy. Granted he had been a man back then, with the same unruly hair and nervous twitching, but he had changed a lot. He seemed much more confident now then he had been during their first meeting. Hermione distinctly remembered him telling her how he had truly despised his Hogwarts years when she met him at Slughorn's Christmas party, not because of the school or the teachers but because of the other students present. Hermione smiled at Adrian's attempt at a joke and decided that no harm could come from her befriending someone with no friends and destined to make none.

"Smile for me, Hermione?" Adrian asked, raising his camera.

Hermione ducked her face. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, I'm far from photogenic," she tried to argue.

Worried, she chanced a glance at the headmaster who nodded at her in reassurance. Sighing in defeat, Hermione couldn't argue if Dumbledore thought it was safe.

"Alright fine, but just one," she stated.

"What ever you want," he agreed eagerly.

Of course, she should have known that if she befriended a boy whose hobby was photography, that was going to be the first of many, many pictures.

* * *

Hermione fell against the wall, breathing heavily and her eyes shut tight. She had been certain she could handle it, she could handle anything, except this apparently.

"I can't do this, Merlin, I just can't," she muttered to herself, repeating it over and over again.

She had tried to ignore the pain in her arm, she had tried to ignore the heartbreak she felt every time she caught sight of someone she knew to be dead in her time. Tears started rolling down her cheeks as she pulled at her hair. Perhaps Hermione should have chosen her hallway more carefully, as she currently found herself in a well known first floor corridor where you could find an all but abandoned girls' lavatory. Lost in her thoughts, Hermione didn't notice a transparent head peak out of the stone wall.

"What's wrong with you?" A high-pitched voice inquired.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Please leave me alone, Myrtle."

"How do you know my name? First years never know my name," the pouting girl moaned.

"I know a lot more about you than you think," Hermione muttered.

"Because you're a Ravenclaw? I was a Ravenclaw once..." Myrtle spoke, a wishful tone in her voice.

Hermione wiped her cheeks, glancing up at the pityful ghost. "Did you enjoy it? It's my first day and I'm not sure I'm fitting in," Hermione inquired.

Myrtle shrugged, leaning against the wall with a dramatic sigh. "Whether you fit in or not... It all depends on you. Though, Ravenclaw is the second most exclusive house at Hogwarts, after Slytherin of course... You should know that Ravenclaw and Slytherin aren't very far apart in their ambitions. They just go about reaching them in different ways."

"What are you trying to say?" Hermione frowned.

"I feel it in you, all the ghosts have felt it."

"I don't understand..." Hermione trailed off.

Myrtle tilted her head with a mocking smile on her face. "Have you been to the Headmaster's office?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes dry and her face scrunched up in confusion. "Not yet, but I've been told to go."

Myrtle dropped onto her back, floating up to the ceiling. Hermione watched the ghost disappear, not understanding a thing of what just happened.

"Ah! Miss Delacour, just the young girl I was looking for!" Hermione jumped in surprise when she heard Professor Dumbledore exclaim her name.

"Professor! I- How did you find me?" She wondered, knowing her class at the moment was taking place on the third floor.

"Headmaster's secret, my dear," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Accepting his answer with a nod, Hermione took his helping hand to stand up and wiped off her clothes as she followed him to where ever he was leading her.

"You should visit me in my office one day my dear," he said, after a brief moment of silence.

"Why does everyone keep telling me that!?" She demanded. "First the Sorting Hat, then Myrtle, which frankly was just bizarre, and now, you!"

Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head as they came to a stop in front of the Transfiguration classroom. "Perhaps it means you should listen to us all?"

"Is that an invitation for me to come to your office, Professor?"

"Miss Delacour, I haven't taught a class in over a decade, I am no longer a Professor," he teased. "Now shall we go in? I believe you share this class with the Gryffindor first years?" He checked.

Hermione nodded, steeling herself for all the familiar faces she knew she would come across. As the headmaster knocked Hermione wiped her eyes hurriedly once again, knowning that her eyes would remain red-rimmed despite her attempt to disguise them.

"Minerva, I bring you your last student, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore interrupted the class, gently pushing Hermione into the classroom filled with curious eyes. "I believe I warned you she would be in my company."

Hermione knew he had done no such thing but McGonagall nodded, ushering her forward into the only available seat, which, luckily for her, happened to be next to Adrian. Hermione hurried to sit down in it, trying to hide from the gazes trained on her and pulled out her book and parchement. She glanced around, feeling like a nervous first year while tucking her hair behind her ears. She only found herself meeting one gaze, the one of Sirius Black. She smiled at him in embarrassment, trying to ease the tension she felt. However, the eleven year old Sirius Black, did not send her an easy going smile like his older version would have, he merely narrowed his eyes at her, a stark contrast to the smiling boy from the train. She decided not to dwell on it. She was well aware that Sirius, James and to some extent Remus and Peter, would become Hogwart's supposedly amusing bullies. If they decided they did not like her, it would simplify things greatly for Hermione and her attempt to not meddle with the events of time.

As Hermione's mind drifted off in class, she had no idea that two Marauders were currently planning a prank to play on either her, Lily or Severus. The group had not had the time to decide who their favourite target would be. First there was Severus, the slimy, hook-nosed Slytherin, and really that was all the justification James and Sirius needed in order to prank the boy. Then there was Lily, a girl that the boys supposed was okay, if it weren't for the fact that she was friends with the Slytherin creep, that, in itself, warranted pranking. Finally there was Hermione, the bushy-haired, buck-toothed Ravenclaw, who had her face stuck in a book at all times. There was nothing partically bad about her, but Sirius and James agreed that something about her irked them the wrong way. Something about how her face would remain impassive at all times but her eyes would make you feel as if she knew your deepest, darkest secrets disturbed the boys, even Remus admitted to feeling uncomfortable around her. Meeting her gaze made you feel almost insignificant, as if she knew everything about your past, present and futur. And that did not sit well with the boys, more specifically Sirius, who had many secrets, secrets he planned to keep that way.

Hermione twirled a lock of her hair around her index finger, staring out the window, so lost in her thoughts that she started when Adrian nudged her in the ribs, attracting her attention. She sat up straight and met the annoyed gaze of Professor McGonagall, not knowing what to do. In a split second decision Hermione dived into the surface of her Professor's mind, searching for what she was supposed to say or do.

" _Reparifarge_ ," Hermione spoke. "It's an incantation to untransfigure an object. It's a general spell, used to counter the effects of a poorly performed transformation spell or to untransform a partially transfigured object."

McGonagall's nostrils flared before the teacher nodded. "Well done, five points to Ravenclaw for having read the Transfiguration manuel before class," she turned to the rest of the class. "You should all take example on her," Minerva scolded, eyeing her Gryffindors.

Blushing Hermione ducked her head, avoiding the accusing looks she was receiving from the Gryffindors and the proud and satisfied looks she was getting from her fellow Ravenclaws. In what Hermione could only describe as the perfect moment the bell rang, signalling the end of class and gathering her books into her bag, Hermione turned to Adrian.

"I'll see you at dinner, alright Adrian? I have a few things to do," she smiled at him.

The young boy glanced up from his sheet of parchement where he was taking down a few last minute notes he nodded. "Sure thing Mione, don't mind me."

Beaming at the boy Hermione raced out of the classroom, heading straight for the Ravenclaw tower. She quickly answered the riddle the door knocker tested her with and hurried up the stairs to her dorm, dropping her large satchel at the foot of her bed before leaving once again. Hermione wasted no time, striding through the corridors of the Hogwart's castle, going straight to the headmaster's office. She came to a stop in front if the Gargoyle, that remained unmoving. She took no notice of the hallway she was in, not seeing Adrian who froze at the sight of her.

"Miss Delacour I presume?" The Gargoyle spoke, eyeing the witch with an unpleasent look in his stone eyes.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Password?"

"Cauldron Cake."

The Gargoyle nodded but refused to move aside. "You are quite a perculiar witch, Miss Delacour," he said as Hermione stared at him, not knowing how to answer him. "The ghosts were right about you."

With those words and a nod, the Gargoyle moved to the side, allowing her entry. Hermione stayed still for a moment longer, trying to understand his words. Obviously something was going on. Perhaps this visit to the Headmaster's office was what she truly needed. Everyone seemed to think that was the case and so, crossing her fingers, Hermione climbed the steps to the large wooden door.

* * *

"The Headmaster will be with you in a moment," the portrait of a young witch informed Hermione.

Hermione nodded in thanks for the information and wandered around the office slowly, in curiousity. She paused at the hidden compartment concealing the Pensive and raised a delicate hand to trace over the designs carved into the glass. Sighing, Hermione turned away from the cabinet when she heard a noise of stone running against stone. On her left, behind the headmasters desk, four large bricks, or small stones, were seperating, each dividing in the middle and moving away from each other diagonally. Hermione approached the newly revealed compartment, squinting her eyes into the dark, wooden cube shaped space. As she moved closer she could make out the shadow of a book shaped object inside. She reached a shaking hand inside only to pull out an old, used and leather bound book that had obviously been opened many a time. One of Hermione's hands caressed the cover in admiration for the runes imprinted in gold over it.

"That is the Founders diary," Dumbeldore's voice spoke from behind her, his tone suggesting he was deep in thought.

She started in fright, almost dropping the priceless book. "Forgive me Professor, I realise I probably wasn't supposed to touch it but the case opened and I couldn't resist-"

"The possibility of a new book?" Dumbledore chuckled, his gaze never straying from the book in her small hands. "Fret not my dear. That diary would not present itself to just anyone."

"Really?" Hermione looked down at the diary. "I've never heard of a Founders diary," she murmured.

"No, you wouldn't have, would you? It is an artefact that only the Headmasters of Hogwarts are allowed to know about. None of the other teachers, board members or even ministry officials are privy to it's existence and the knowledge it contains."

"Are you privy to it's knowledge?" Hermione wondered.

"Heavens no!" Dumbledore chuckled as the girl only just noticed the fact that all the portaits in the office were silent and staring at her in awe. "If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that no one in the living world could gain access to that book." He said, nodding to the book she was inadvertently clutching. "Except you, obviously."

"Mm," she paused, liking her lips. "Why me, Professor?"

"Well, the Founders left a notebook of sorts for future Hogwart Headmasters, telling us of all the building's secrets. In the notebook is a whole section devoted to explaining their diary, it's importance and exclusivity. Only a member of all 4 houses could gain access to it."

"But I'm only a member of Ravenclaw, Sir," Hermione corrected.

"I did not mean a school member my dear, not even a house member, nor a blood member, but a magic member."

"A magic member?" She repeated, confused.

He nodded. "Someone who possesses the magic of all four houses. All the qualities and faults offered by each house," his eyes landed on the book, a hungry glint in his eyes, causing Hermione to clutch the book to her chest protectively. "I believe this is proof that you are not here by accident."

"I still shouldn't be here," Hermione shook her head.

His lips thinned as his gaze studied her. "Be that as it may, take good care of that journal my dear. Hide it well. If someone were to discover it's existence, many people would suffer. Some would stop at nothing to attain it," he nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, there is only one other book in this world more valuable than the one you hold and many wizards and witches have died fighting for it."

"What book is that?" Hermione wanted to know.

Shaking his head to clear the somewhat dazed look in his eyes, he smiled. "Do not bother yourself with such knowledge, my dear. For now, concentrate on this," he said, waving at the thick tome.

Hermione nodded, looking at her book, biting her lip in fear and excitement. "You are this books rightful owner, Miss Delacour and only you can decide what happens to it and who you share it's secrets with. Use it well."

Nodding again, Hermione only looked up when the Sorting Hat decided to join the conversation. "I told you a visit to the Headmaster's office would not be in vain."

Hermione did not speak for a moment, thinking back to her conversation with Myrtle and the Gargoyle. "You were not the only one," she answered with a frown.

Perhaps this book held the answers to all her questions. Why was she here? Why did she have an odd relationship with Myrtle and the Gargoyle? Two magical beings who rarely talked with anyone unless absolutely necessary or to be a pain in the neck. Hermione strolled slowly back to her dorm room, never looking away from the book she held. When she was sitting on her bed, curtains drawn closed around it, she carefully placed the diary in front of her. Her index finger traced the silver circle surrounded by all the golden runes, feeling it heat up under her touch. As if the book was communicating with her, Hermione pulled out her wand, knowing the tip of it would fit perfectly into the carved circle. The book glowed delicately, Hermione's wand heating up to the point that it almost burned her before cooling once again. Barely containing her excitement, she dropped her wand and pulled open the book.

 _June 27th, 993_

 _Hogwarts is finally ready. And yet we all agree that something isn't quite right. Ever since we discovered what Merlin did, we can't help but want to know why. Was it for us? Or for someone else entirely? Salazar and Rowena both agreed to stop at nothing to understand the situation, to uncover the warlock's secrets. I am unsure how they plan to accomplish such a feat. Merlin was a wise and powerful wizard with the gift of Sight. He would not have divided his magical Core without reason. Without the gift of Sight however, I am afraid we will never know what Merlin had planned. To understand the future, one must know the future, something all four of us are incapable of._

 _It will keep them occupied I suppose, but I believe it is all futile. Godric is rather silent on the matter, neither encouraging nor dissuading the pair. It is rather rare to find Godric with no opinion. He did, though, mention The Book, something I worry may divide us. Rowena and Salazar seem to think that The Book would be the best way to understand Merlin's motives. I fear it, however, as only death and despair fall on those who seek it._

 _-Helga Hufflepuff_

 ** _A/N: Hope you liked it! Tell me everything you thought about it! What do you guys think will happen next? What's up with Hermione and the Magical Creatures of the school? What do you think the ghosts feel in Hermione? And do you have any guesses about The Book? If one of you guesses correctly, you get a sneak peak to a very distant scene in this story! A scene including Hermione, The Book and a third character I've written into the scene but have yet to name (so could be Albus, Aberforth, Adrian or even Sirius, anyone really, I can't decide who!) and maybe even a dragon! If you ask for it, I'll share, otherwise I'll let you be surprised! So... Start guessing!_**

 ** _Love all of you and your wonderful reviews!_** However Alessandra.12, hollowg1rl, meldz your reviews are wonderful, and though you all offered Slytherin I hope you won't be too put out by my choice. hollowg1rl brought up a good reason why Hermione should be in Ravenclaw and admittedly it was one of my reasons for putting her in Ravenclaw: she can befriend anyone in Ravenclaw, which is not the case in Slytherin.

 **Thank you for reading and please keep up the support, I wouldn't write this story with out you!**


	5. Chapter 5: The boulder

**A/N: Voilà! A new chapter! I hope you enjoy it despite the lack of Hermione-Marauder interaction. It will come soon, though it won't be good interaction until at least a few years have passed.**

 **Please tell me what you think! I absolutely adored all your lovely reviews! You really are the best and I keep writing for you!**

 **PS. Sorry for typos or spelling!**

"Come to the lake with me, Hermione?" Adrian begged, jumping up and down in excitement.

Giggling, Hermione nodded, following her friend out to the grounds and dropping ungracefully onto a large boulder, half burried into the ground and sinking into the dark waters. She pulled out an Advanced Potions book that she had requested from Guillaume and grabbed her small pocket quill, planning on noting down the modifications she had memorized from the Half-Blood Prince before she forgot them. Adrian wandered in circles around her, photographing students and wildlife eagerly.

"My dad dared me to get a picture of the Giant Squid," Adrian claimed, leaning against the stone where she sat after a few moments, away from the water. "Mum said that I'd never manage because the Squid only comes out at night apparently. I'm gonna prove her wrong."

Glancing up from her book, Hermione blinked at him with a lazy smile. "Hm really? I wish you luck," she answered.

Chuckling, Adrian shoved her gently. "Don't pretend you were listening to me when clearly, you weren't," he reprimanded her goodnaturedly.

Hermione gasped in exaggerated outrage. "Why I never! I will have you know that I am very much interested in what you have to say!"

"Don't fret 'Mione, you'll still be my friend either way."

Shutting her book, Hermione picked up her bag and wrapped an arm around Adrian's waist, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked back to the castle. Though they had only met a few days ago, Adrian did not react awkwardly to her physical affection. He could tell that it was nothing more than friendly and whenever he met her gaze, he felt as if she used touching people as a way of reassuring herself. She very obviously needed to know that he was still by her side and so he let her do it. When they studied in the library, she would, in what he could tell was an unconscious action, reach out and take his hand or hug his arm briefly. Adrian had been surprised at first when she had started fiddling with his hair in the Ravenclaw common room but once he got over his initial shock, he understood that she needed to touch the people around her. He had a squib uncle who had enlisted into the muggle army as a teenager who had some of the same tics as her and though it made no sense, she seemed to be suffering from post traumatic stress. And so as any understanding friend would, he let her continue, never pushing her away. It comforted her, calmed her and he could see it clearly in her eyes. Adrian would wait before asking her about it, wait until they knew each other better but as a Ravenclaw he knew that one day, he would have to find out what happened to her. He needed to undertsand the short flashes of panic in her gaze when she couldn't find his hand.

That boulder in the lake quickly became the pair's spot. Luckily, it wasn't a very sought out place, not like the tree where Hermione, Ron and Harry used to sit during their Hogwart years. Only three weeks had passed and yet it was already common knowledge that if you were searching for either Hermione or Adrian, you would find the pair by the lake, the girl sitting cross-legged on the boulder with a book on her knees and the boy leaning against the large rock with his camera in his hands.

* * *

"I can't believe that we've been here for a month and still haven't seen the Squid!" Adrian complained.

"You have seven years to spot it, don't lose patience."

"Seven years! I can't wait until graduation day Hermione!"

Delicately closing her book, Hermione rubbed her red-tipped nose in an attempt to warm it up. "As far as I'm aware, one can't order the Giant Squid to come to the surface so I'm afraid there's not much else to do but wait for it to come to us," she sniffed, pulling out a hankerchief.

Sighing as if it were the end of the world, Adrian dropped his camera in his bag as he stood up. "Unfourtunately, I know you're right," he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shaking his head he turned to his friend. "Anyway, I've got to go, I wanted to talk to Professor McGonagall about the essay we have to write and she said her only available time was once all her classes were over."

"I'll see you at dinner, then," Hermione waved, watching the only person she considered a true friend in this time walk away.

She forced herself to hold in her nervous twitching, knowing she was just being silly. There was no war going on at the moment, Adrian wasn't at risk. Old habits die hard, she supposed. The loss of so many had taken it's toll on her which explained why she often found herself seeking out physical contact with the boy, to reassure herself that Adrian was still by her side, present and warm. She had never been such a physical person in her own time but now found herself overly worried and nervous without it. The war had changed her. Both Dumbledore and Guillaume had suggested that it seemed close to PTSD. Hermione supposed it was possible but knew that she had found a pot of gold with Adrian as he was a kind, patient and understanding boy who let her touch him whenever she needed. Her headmaster had offered to find her a psychologist of sorts but she had refused, determined to get over it on her own.

Placing her book beside her, Hermione stared into the Forbidden Forest, her fingers lightly skimming the surface on the lake in a lazy eight pattern. She ignored the tears running down her cheeks, losing herself in her memories, her heart aching physically from the loss of her friends, dead and alive.

"Hermione!" A gentle voice exclaimed from the open corridor of the Hogwart courtyard.

Hermione started in surprise, her hand leaving the water to clutch her chest. She checked who called her name, smiling at the sight of the short girl with long blond hair to rival the Malfoy's.

"Pandora," Hermione acknowlegded.

"Come inside, dinner's about to start."

Nodding, Hermione waved her hand to clear her face of any left over blotchiness from her impromptu pityfest. She shouldered her bag and hurried up to the girl, never having even glanced towards the Marauders, who had managed to claim the tree as their's, and who were watching her closely. Nor did she notice the large ripple that passed over the surface of the lake when her fingers moved away from it. The Marauders did take note of it, though they did not understand it.

* * *

"Do you want some?" Pandora offered, holding out a bowl of bread rolls.

"Thank you, Dora," Hermione said, gratefully, taking a roll for herself and one for Adrian who had yet to join them for dinner.

"Excuse me, may I take those?" A deep but very soft voice inquired.

Pandora's eyes widened at the sight of whoever was talking to her, so Hermione took it upon herself to answer.

"Of course, help yourself."

Xenophilius smiled before leaving with the bread.

"What happened to you Pandora?" Hermione teased.

"He was terribly handsome, don't you think?" She blushed.

"Don't tell me you're the sort to loose your mind around cute boys?"

"No! But I still like admiring them."

"He's a third year," Hermione deadpanned.

"So? I just said look," Pandora shrugged.

Hermione shook her head with a grin on her face, glancing up the table to where she could see the tall blond sitting amidst his friends, waving his hands around in an exaggerated manner as he explained some thing or another. Once dinner was finished Hermione, Pandora and Adrian, who had joined them not long after Xenophilius had passed by, strolled slowly back up to the Ravenclaw tower chatting amiably together listening to Pandora's explanation on Wrackspurts, Hermione interjecting with the knowledge she had picked up from Luna, after she realized that despite her odd attitude, Luna knew far more than people believed. As they entered the common room, Pandora drifted off to meet with her friends, the other first year Ravenclaw girls. Hermione excused herself from Adrian briefly, going to her shared room to fetch her new book she had not yet dared open. The Founder's diary.

She cast a quick spell over it, disguising the book so that if anyone were to glance at the cover or read over her shoulder all they would see was the latest version of _Hogwarts: A History_. She flopped down on the couch throwing a pillow at Adrian who caught it deftly and placed it at her feet. When he sat down Hermione curled her legs under her and immediately started reading. Completely immersed in the information she was gaining, she barely noticed her hand reach out and start raking her nails through the hair at the nape of his neck. Adrian continued nibbling on his last few cookies while finishing his homework, homework Hermione had pushed him to do beforehand but that he hadn't been motivated to do.

 _November 13th, 993_

 _I have stolen this notebook away from Helga. I plan on writing my own version of events. Helga would have transformed it into a child's bedtime story, she would have removed the blood and terrifying creatures. Here are the real tellings of what happened tonight, unchanged: Rowena and Salazar dragged us out to a large wild park in the French countryside. Once in the park, we followed the pair to a medium sized lake with a thin bridge leading to a small island overgrown with bushes and trees protecting from sight a tomb like building. Helga and I stayed back, watching the eager pair approach the iron gates surrounding it. So suddenly that we both missed it, the pair was being stabbed and attacked by what appeared to be stone men. Just when we started to believe they would succeed in defeating the odd beings the air around us shifted and Helga and I could no longer move or speak. In a panic, we tried fighting against the invisible force holding us down but froze even more when we noticed the dust around us start floating, gathering up in front of us. A breeze made the leaves sway, the soft sound of rustling filling the night sky. A shiver ran down my spine as a light but cold laugh drifted to my ears, chilling me to my core. It was as the dust started shaping into a human looking shape that I truly understood why people never survived the fight for The Book. It was however, as I looked up into the hard expression etched onto the pale, ghost like woman's face that I felt true unadulterated fear._

 _"Morgan Le Fay," Helga breathed, eyes wide._

 _The figure grinned a truly evil smile as she moved through the air silently, stopping between the stone men and lazily eyeing Salazar and Rowena._

 _"You are not welcome here," she stated, her voice cold._

 _"Why not? Our magic is powerful, we deserve the right to read The Book," Salazar spoke, his tone overly arrogant for someone in the presence of Morgan Le Fay._

 _Morgan laughed loudly, entertained by the man's gall. "Merlin gave me orders to only let one person enter this place. Neither of you is that person," she stated carelessly._

 _"Who is this person?" Rowena wanted to know._

 _"Someone who carries his magic. His heir."_

 _"Merlin had no children, no descendants. The Book will go to waste," Rowena argued._

 _"I was sure he told me you were the smart one," Morgan mocked, sneering at the slim woman._

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"Merlin warned me you would come seeking his book. He ordered me to refuse you entry and so, you shall not enter. He also said I could not kill you and so, you shall not die. He did not, however, forbid me from maiming you," Morgan explained._

 _"And so maim us, you shall?" I joked, having been released from the enchatment that kept me rooted on the spot._

 _What followed is a blur. Disfigured beings ripped out from the ground as Morgan Le Fay raised her arms, the wind picking up violently. The trees bent from the force of it, groaning under the pressure, finally giving in and unrooting their roots, turning on us. The four of us fought valiantly, our wands slashing through the air as we prayed for our escape, worried despite Morgan's promise to let us live. We would never return here._

 _-Godric Gryffindor_

 _November 15th, 993_

 _After months of research and time spent searching the world we had finally found The Book. And we were denied entrance. Even I! I, whose blood runs purest than any, was refused entry! Never before have I been so thoroughly humiliated. All this time gone to waste. If it hadn't been for Rowena, whose intelligence is admittedly unparalleled, I would have lost much more time on my own._

 _I am still bed-ridden due to the battle we fought that night and though it is most unfourtunate, it has given me time to reflect over the past events. Morgan Le Fay's words sound over and over in my mind. What does Merlin have planned? Who is his heir? I need the answers._

 _I need Rowena._

 _-Salazar Slytherin_

 _November 20th, 993_

 _Salazar has not stopped hounding me since he left his bed. Curse Helga for telling him it was acceptable for him to stand. He follows me everywhere all but begging me to help him understand Morgan Le Fay's last words to us. Godric accused him of begging, but Salazar firmly denied it, after all what self-respecting Slytherin would ever beg for anything? Perhaps if he begged I would reconsider, as that would mean it was truly important to him. For now, I merely wish to forget what happened on Merlin's island. Never have I seen such terrifying creatures as the ones that ripped the ground apart at Morgan's command. Skeletal beings with no human facial features or flesh. My body shivers at the thought of them._

 _I admit that Salazar has peeked my curiosity and though I hope to forget, I know such a thing is impossible. Obviously, Merlin had something planned when he placed his protections on the island. If only his heir can reach The Book, he somehow must have a descendant. Or perhaps, not a descendant but simply someone who possesses his magic, which would be the equivalent of his heir. Indeed, Merlin was a cunning wizard I can not understand on my own._

 _I need Salazar._

 _-Rowena Ravenclaw_

"Hermione?" Said girl jumped out of her skin as she was pulled out of the book.

Eyes wide, she met the gaze of Adrian, who was staring at her in amusement.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he murmured. "I just wanted to warn you that I was going to head off to bed."

With a quick glance around the room, she realized that almost all the torches were turned off, that all the chairs were empty and that the fire in the hearth was slowly dying. "What time is it?"

"Almost one in the morning, I'd wager," he shrugged.

"Have you only just finished your homework?" She frowned.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I fell asleep as soon as I was done, I was fighting to stay awake for the whole time because of that thing you were doing to my hair."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you should have told me, I would have stopped," she apologized.

"It was heavenly, do it again whenever you want, Hermione, I won't complain."

Hermione laughed, gathering the short boy into a quick hug good night. "Sleep well Adrian," she wished.

"You too, 'Mione," he replied, hurrying up the stairs to his room.

Hermione stood still, looking around the abandonned common room. She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she wouldn't sleep well tonight. In fact, she wondered if she would ever sleep well again, one day in her life. Even though her shared dorm was filled with five other girls, Hermione felt terribly alone every night as she curled up in her bed. This time was no different, pulling up the covers and casting a number of silencing spells so as to not bother her dormmates with her noisy nightmares that woke her every night. How would she explain the dreams that covered her in sweat and filled her heart with pain to innocent eleven year old girls?

Hermione pulled on her knee length nightgown and padded silently over to the open window. She opened it wider, sitting legs-crossed on the ledge knowing that many protective spells would prevent her from falling down to the ground below should she ever loose balance. A gentle breeze caressed her cheek and swept her hair out of her watery eyes as she breathed in deeply. Her fingers drifted over the letters marring her forearm. No, she doubted she would ever go back to sleeping peacefully. Her memories prevented her from doing so. She sighed shakily, shutting her eyes for a short moment and pulled up the material that covered up the word. She held the hem of the arm sleeve-cover that hid her scar from prying eyes but left her hand bare and gave her the possibilty to wear short sleeves. A glamour would work of course, but the chance that she might one day forget to cast it before leaving her dorm was too great, at least this she could leave on permenantly and ensure no one would know what it hid.

What she was hiding.

No one could know. Not ever.

She was well and truly alone, despite her friendship with Adrian.

How does one survive alone in a time they don't belong to with people they know will die? She wondered.

Hermione Jean Granger, now Ewfyne Delacour, was not yet aware that she belonged in this era as much as the next person did. Merlin knew, of course but that did little to help, seeing as she couldn't speak with him. Not yet of course.

 **A/N: Haha! So here is an explanation about The Book! Well done to those who guessed correctly. I can share a small sneak peek (much shorter than the one I offered for the last chapter) if you guess who Merlin's heir is and/or how she's going to ever manage to speak with Merlin. He is dead after all.**

 **The sneak peek would be an innocent one, not like the exciting one (I think it was) I shared for chapter 4, it would be a short scene between Hermione and Sirius! You get to choose if it's a cute or bad scene between them. This is the last sneak peek I'll be offering for a very long time. (I'm in a sneak peek mood these days, so sue me.)**

 **Start guessing! (Tell me in the review if you want the sneak peek or not and I'll answer if you're right.)**


	6. Chapter 6: Remus Lupin

**A/N: Once again: a new chapter for you to hopefully devour avidly! I would greatly appreciate any thoughts or opinions you have on this chapter! I truly do love hearing from you! The previous reviews were lovely, I can really tell some people take reviewing a chapter very seriously and I assure it's a hundred percent appreciated.**

 **As for the sneak peak requests, I had two from guest reviewers** Syndi **and** Lemon. **I don't know who you are, but I appreciate your reviews and I'm happy to tell you that you guessed correctly! However, I feel bad because you asked for the sneak peak so nicely but I have no way of sending them to you. So if you would like the sneak peak I need a way to contact you, you could either create a Fanfiction account or IM me if possible, give me your e-mail if you really want the SP. I'd rather not post the sneak peak on my story though, if only because some readers don't want to ruin the surprise and it wouldn't be fair to them. I'm sorry about this inconvenience.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing a part from a few plot ideas.**

When the sandy haired boy turned the corner, he froze at the sight of a bushy haired Ravenclaw sitting at his usual table in the library. It was quite a surprise that despite the two months and a half that had passed, neither had come across each other in this very spot. On the table they had both seperately claimed as theirs in their library for their study sessions.

"You're welcome to join me," Hermione spoke up, not even looking up.

"Oh-um-that's alright," he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his place. "I'll just be going."

Shrugging, Hermione flipped a page in her book carelessly. "Of course, I understand."

Remus nodded even though she had not yet looked at him and turned away. Only to freeze once again as a confused frown grew on his face. "What do you mean, you understand?"

With a loud sigh Hermione finally looked up from her book. "Well, it's no secret that your friends don't appreciate me," she told him, her tone implying he was quite daft to not understand on his own. "It's normal that you wouldn't want to be seen with me."

"Oh," Remus breathed.

"I don't blame you, after all, you wouldn't want to alienate your friends," she added, going back to her book.

Remus stared at her intensely as she went on reading as if he weren't present before shaking his head and dropping his book bag in front of her.

"My friends don't dictate who I can and can't hang out with," he stated.

"That's not what I meant," Hermione interrupted.

Remus held up his left hand to stop her. "I realize that," he assured her. "I'm sorry for how they treat you but I can still study with you."

"It's not your doing," Hermione spoke, referring to his apology.

"Still," he stated, with a firm shake of his head.

"Well, you're welcome to join me in the library whenever you wish."

"As are you," Remus returned.

That was how Hermione and Remus' study-ship was started, as it could not possibly be called anything else. It was simply by chance that they would end up at the same forgotten library table in the far back, near the old, unused tomes every once in a while. They would acknowledge one another and then proceed to work in silence, rarely sharing more than a few words with another, only sometimes asking a question to the other about a certain subject they found complicated.

* * *

"Miss Pomfrey?" Hermione called as she entered what seemed to be an empty Hospital Wing.

She heard a softly exclaimed 'oh!' and the gentle noise of potion vials clinking together. The sound of a curtain being pulled closed was heard before the matron bustled over to Hermione.

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten!" The nurse claimed, a fond smile on her face.

"How could I? This is my last scheduled visit, after this, I'm a free girl," Hermione joked.

"Are you so displeased to see me that you're that eager to be rid of me?"

"Not so much you as the _reason_ I see you," Hermione corrected.

"Oh dear, I will be just as glad as you once these required visits are over," Poppy agreed, gently pushing Hermione onto one of the many hospital beds. "Now sit here and remove your top, I'll be with you in a moment."

Hermione complied, swinging her feet back and forth, waiting patiently for Mme Pomfrey to return.

Not more than ten minutes later the nurse hurried back into the curtain closed area.

"My dear, you'll have to remove your arm cover as well," she said, motioning to her arm.

Knowing this would happen, Hermione didn't hesitate to pull it off her arm and reveal her scar to the witch that already knew it well. Her reaction was the same as always.

"My poor child," she said with a shake of her head. "Suffering such a thing at such a young age," she muttered, knowing Hermione's true age but considering seventeen to be very young as well.

After casting a few diagnostic spells, Pomfrey nodded. "Well your arm is fully healed, it won't change from now on. As is this wound here," the nurse explained, tracing the scar crossing over Hermione's shoulder. "In a few months there shouldn't even be a scar left."

"This one here however, will leave a scar once fully healed, though I still can't figure out it's origin and the curse placed on it."

Hermione glanced down at the scar following her hip bone. It was jagged and bumpy but luckily not too long. "You should have asked sooner Miss Pomfrey. I know exactly how I got that one."

Poppy raised her brows in question. "A werewolf. Just a scratch though, no teeth," Hermione quickly added the last part at the horrified look of the matron.

"No wonder it won't heal!" She exclaimed, handing Hermione her top. "Don't hesitate to come see me if you have any pains or problems with that cut. It'll take longer than expected to heal completely, now that I know how you got it."

Slipping her shirt back on, Hermione jumped off the bed and burst out from the curtains around her cot, on the opposite side from which she had entered. A loud gasp surprised her and she easily met the terrfied gaze of an exhausted looking Remus Lupin.

"I'm awfully sorry, I didn't know anyone was here!" Hermione claimed, embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter," Remus muttered, quickly avoiding her gaze, his eyes ever so briefly darting to her covered arm.

In that moment Hermione realized that Remus had overheard her whole conversation with Poppy Pomfrey due to his wolf hearing. "Bloody moon," she cursed the full moon that had come and gone during the night, ensuring that Remus could hear everything incredibly clearly.

"I'll just be going," she murmured awkwardly.

When the boy failed to meet her gaze and simply nodded guiltily, Hermione knew she would not see him at their shared library table anytime soon.

* * *

And how right she had been. She did not even cross paths with Remus in the hallways, much less the library until just before the Christmas holidays.

"You're alive!" She proclaimed softly when she saw him sitting at their table.

Remus jumped in his seat, his book flying into the air. Flicking her empty hand Hermione levitated the book back onto the table near his open hands.

"I'll leave," he almost yelled.

"Why?" Hermione inquired innocently. "We've shared the table many times."

Not finding a way to argue his way out of this without arousing suspicion, he nodded, sitting in his seat tensely, pretending to read his book. They sat together in strained silence as Remus tried to make it seem like nothing was wrong and Hermione tried to act as if she was unaware of there being any problems.

"Are you going home for the Christmas break?" She inquired.

"Yes!" The word seemed to burst from his mouth unwillingly and Hermione had to hold in a fond smile.

"That will be nice, seeing your parents again," she breathed, her voice wistful. "Your family."

"Surely you'll be doing the same?"

Hermione nodded quickly. "Oh yes, I'll be spending Christmas with my brother and rest of the family. It will be quite nice."

"Is the Delacour family a big one?" He wondered curiously, forgetting his awkwardness.

"Very large, I haven't even met half of my family!" Hermione exclaimed, being fully truthful as the only person from her family that she had met in this time was Guillaume Delacour.

Remus smiled at the thought of such a large family as he only really had his mother and father with him. "You must get a lot of presents then," he joked, pleasantly.

Hermione's smile died on her lips as she remembered how her parents would treat her with far too many presents each year. That was unfortunately no longer possible. "Not as many as you'd think," she whispered.

Noticing the change in atmosphere, Remus smiled at her carefully, gathering his books. "Well, I'll see you around then."

"Yes, sure," Hermione agreed, lost in her thoughts.

She barely noticed his departure.

* * *

"Professor?" Hermione called, spotting the old headmaster up ahead in the corridor.

"Ah, Miss Delacour! What can I assist you with today?"

"I was wondering if perhaps we could talk in private?"

"Indeed, follow me into my office," he gestured her forward.

The pair entered his office, not long after and both took seats across from each other. Hermione fidgeted for a moment before opening her mouth to speak.

"In the future, there exists a potion called Wolfsbane. It's to be given to werewolves and though it's far from a cure, it's the next best thing. Would it be-"

"I see where you're going with this Miss Delacour, and though your desire to help those you knew in the future is admirable, I can not allow you to do this."

"I wouldn't be asking to take credit for the work off from the Wolfsbane creator! Just help out Remus until it's officially created for all werewolves," she tried to justify herself.

Hermione stared at the old wizard, her eyes pleading at him silently. The pair sat in silence for a long while, measuring and defying the other with their unwavering gaze. Hermione could see his reluctance to allow her to do something as dangerous and risky as this. She could also determine a hint of intrigue in his blue eyes while he tried to decide how serious she was about this idea.

"I would share the receipe with no one except those who help me brew it! I wouldn't even tell Remus what it's called, just that it'll help!" She informed him, hoping to convince him before his curiosity died.

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, his fingers rubbing his chin slowly. "You are a curious person Miss Granger," he murmured almost to himself, calling her by her true name. "Ready to sacrifice anything you hold dear, to save those you love. Not many would do the same," he observed.

"It's only because I have the necessary motivation, Sir. After everything I've been through, how could I not want to help others in need," she shrugged, despite knowing this was not a shrugging matter.

Dumbledore's answer in this instant could change everything. If he said no, then nothing would change, and time would keep going as it had before, unperturbed. If he said yes, however, it would be him giving her the go-ahead, the autorization to change the past. It would be him agreeing that the future was not worth preserving, not worth saving.

If he said yes, it meant she could live instead of simply existing.

"Alright Miss Delacour, you may attempt this endeavour, but do not forget your promises. So who shall it be?"

Hermione smiled brilliantly, goosebumps covering her body as she realized what was happening. "Could you call Aberforth for me Sir?"

"Aberforth?" He asked, verifying that she was sure she wanted him to be the one to help her with the potion.

"Aberforth," she repeated with a firm nod.

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think! Not much left to right for the first year so I think I'll be moving on in a chapter or two!**

 **I realize this chapter is mainly dialogue but those happen from time to time... Fear not, they won't all be like this one! Hope you liked it anyway! Please do tell me!**


	7. Chapter 7: Families

A/N: **Straight to business: In one passage, all dialogue will be in** _italics_ **which means it's in French. Couldn't be bothered to type everything in French and then put the translation at the end so this is easier, both for you and for me. If in that passage there are non italic dialogue, it's happening in English. So voila, please enjoy and tell me what you thought.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor the Musset quote (if you find it well done)**

 **I don't know how to make Wolfsbane and I'm not a pottermore member, so if the recipe happens to on there, I wouldn't know, so thank you for your understanding.**

Hermione's brow furrowed when a sugar quill was dropped on top of her book. She pushed her hair out of her eyes as she glanced up to see who had dared drop their sweet in a most inconvenient place.

"You dropped your candy," she informed Adrian, even though he was staring at her quite expectantly with a large grin.

He shook his head. "It's a gift," he explained. "I sent my mother a few knuts to buy you a present. She said this was all it could afford," he shrugged nervously. "Think of it as an early christmas gift."

Eyes wide, Hermione picked up the quill, a large grin spreading across her face. She quickly threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

"I love it! Thank you so much! I hate sugar quills but this means so much to me," she murmured the last part to herself.

"You hate sugar quills?" He inquired, hearing her and looking crushed.

"Over statement," she corrected herself with a wave of her hand, already opening the package. "I hope you don't mind that I'm not waiting for Christmas to open it?"

"Not at all," he assured her, smiling in relief when he saw her lick the sweet. "Anyway, I've got to return a few library books before we get on the train. Meet me on the platform?"

"Of course," she nodded, going back to her book.

As Adrian walked away, Hermione started sucking on her quill only to pull it out again with a small grimace. "I really _do_ hate them," she told herself, a confused frown on her face as she looked down at the treat, but for reasons unknown, she continued licking her sweet all while reading her book and waiting for the time to pass before having to board the train.

Entranced by her book, she didn't see the four boys wander outside. She didn't hear them laughing jovially. She didn't notice James Potter nudge his closest friend, shoving his chin towards one of their favourite bushy haired target, arguably, one could say Hermione Delacour was tied for second place with Lily Evans. She did, however, feel the freezing cold water dumped on top of her. She watched horrified as the book in her lap soaked up the water, the pages turning into waves and the cover sogging up. Mouth agape, face pale, she turned the pages of the book until she reached the inside cover. She slapped a hand over her mouth to hold in her whimper. The book she could fix, the book didn't really matter. What did matter was the dark letters that were slowly disappearing, turning the whole page blue. She could just barely make out a few words that remained in her mothers slanted writing. Hermione's vision became blurry as a number of tears threatened to overflow. Glaring at the boys through her tears, Hermione clutched the book to her chest and stormed over to the three mocking boys and the uncomfortable looking one.

"You boys are despicable!" She spat, causing Remus, the only one who looked regretful, despite having been the only one to have done nothing, to wince. "I let it be when you charmed all my school books into a mess of runes. I never say anything when you trip me in the hall ways on a daily basis. I didn't complain that day when you caused all my homework to disappear for no reason. I let it all go because I didn't wish to cause a scene."

"I-" Remus started.

"You cause me more problems than all the Slytherins put together and yet you're suppose to be admirable Gryffindors. I realize that you're just having a bit of fun, but it's not fun for me and you know it, which makes it all the more terrible. Obviously you don't mind being considered bullies but I, at the very least, hope you aren't proud of yourselves. You've just destroyed something I hold closest to my heart and all that matters to you is that you had a good laugh out of it."

Hermione shook her head as tears continued to stream down her face. She knew her anger induced tirade was lost on them but it allowed her to release all her pent up frustration on them. She knew they would all grow up to be admirable men, well three of them would, but for now, they were truly petty little boys.

"One day, all of this teasing will go too far and you will risk everything to fix it. But it'll be too late, you'll have gone too far and there'll be no going back. You will all loose what's dearest to you and I truly hope that you'll be ready for it," she spoke, thinking of the older men she knew, who had mostly been the empty shells of the boys they were now.

She turned to leave, but stopped when one of the boys spoke up. "Was that a threat?" Sirius demanded.

Hermione smiled somewhat sadly, tilting her head to see them. "No. It's a fact."

Before they could say anything else, Hermione was gone, leaving the boys to mull over it. She knew though, that her little speach most probably simply guaranteed their opinion of her being crazy but she could care less at the moment. She wouldn't be seeing them until the end of break and by then she would be completely calm once again.

* * *

"Guillaume!" Hermione yelled, attracting the blond wizard's attention as he stood on the platform 9 and 3/4s chatting with an older couple.

He turned just in time to catch her in his arms and twirl her around in an enthusiastic circle, chuckling deeply. He dropped her onto her feet and kissed both her cheeks in a french bise, before hugging her again.

"You've grown 'Mione!" He claimed, resting a hand on her head as if to check the validity of his statement.

"I won't grow much more, but at least I won't stay the size of a fairy like my mum," she told him.

"Short mum?" Guillaume asked, a pitying look on his face.

"Tiny," Hermione groaned in exasperation.

"My poor little sister," Guillaume said seriously, before bursting out laughing and hugging her again. "I've missed you, can you believe it?"

"Hardly, though I must admit, I also found myself thinking about you from time to time."

"If the piles of letters I received from you are any indication," he grinned.

"So is this the newest Delacour additon?" A soft feminine voice interrupted.

Hermione pulled her face out of Guillaume's hands, as he seemed intent on checking her all over for any injuries. "Please, I'm fine," she proclaimed, batting his wandering hands away. Hermione turned towards the chuckling couple and smiled politely. "Hermione Delacour, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh no! The pleasure is all ours. We've been eager to meet the girl that managed to wrap around her little finger the self-proclaimed eternal bachelor of the Delacour family. And now look at him, a brother and father all in one go. Well done, my dear, though it is happening the wrong way around. Shouldn't the wife be before the child?" The lady teased.

"Slow down a bit there," Guillaume interrupted, paling at the thought of a wife. "Haven't met the lady to give my heart to yet. For now, I'll trust Hermione as the keeper of my heart," he told them, gathering Hermione to his side as proof.

"Be that as it may, Hermione needs a woman present in her life," the dark haired lady informed them before looking down at Hermione. "If you ever have any questions or want a girls day don't hesitate to call on me Hermione, it would me my honour. Dorea Potter, at your service."

"Thank you, I'll probably take you up on that offer sooner or later," Hermione said gratefully, hiding her reaction to their identity beautifully.

"Really don't hesitate, after all you've gone through, I could understand reluctance on your part but rest assured, I wouldn't be looking to replace your mother. Just be helping hand."

"Mother, I was wondering if it'd be possible to invi-" James Potter trailed off at the sight of the Delacour girl chatting with his mother, the latter holding the young girls hand in a comforting way. "What's _she_ doing here?"

"Honestly James Charlus Potter, I've taught you better manners than that, haven't I?"

"But mum, it's _Delacour_ ," he muttered, as if the name explained everything.

"I'm well aware of her name James, thank you very much," his mother sniffed, before turning back to the young girl. "Now don't forget about my offer, it'll hold until I no longer know the Delacour family," she claimed. "And I've known the Delacour's for a _very_ long time," she stage whispered the last part.

Giggling Hermione nodded before stepping back closer to Guillaume. "And you Guillaume, do come by the house some day. We have certain matters to discuss. Including the way you raise Hermione. There are things a man simply _cannot_ do on his own, at least, not without a little guidance," she said, with an amused smile and a wink at the young man who was currently pretending to be greatly offended.

"I will have you know _Mrs. Potter_ ," Guillaume fake spat in disgust.

"That Guillaume is doing a _fine_ job raising me," Hermione interjected, trying to keep the peace. "Not that there's much raising left to do," Hermione added.

"Very well, very well," Charlus agreed. "We'll believe you for now, until proof of the contrary. "

"I'll take what I can get," Guillaume murmured. "Anyway, Hermione and I must be off, we've got people to meet, introductions to be made and places to go," he exclaimed, in a loud, joyful voice.

"Don't forget to call!" Charlus called after the pair that was striding away.

"She's being raised by her _brother_?!" Hermione heard James question in shock. "Ow!" He yelled when his mother flicked him on the back of his head.

"Keep your nose where it belongs, Mr. Potter!" His mother chastised. "Now what was it you were wanting to ask me?"

"Can Sirius Black come over for a few days during the holidays?" James asked eagerly, forgetting all about the conversation her heard between his mother, Hermione and Guillaume.

"I don't see why not? As long as his mother's alright with it," she nodded.

"Perfect! What about Remus and Peter?!"

Smiling affectionately at her son, she caressed his hair. "Let's do it, one boy at a time for now."

* * *

" _This the street rat Guillaume picked off the street then_?" A tall and very slim lady inquired, peering down her perfect nose at Hermione.

" _She's hardly a street rat, Clarice,_ " another redhead lady interrupted. " _Daughter of a close family friend, I hear, practically a Delacour before Guillaume took her in_."

Offended, Hermione tried to figure out if the two women were teasing or just plain rude.

The first lady scrunched up her nose delicately, as she took a sip of her red wine. " _Now's the best time for her to meet the Crone, don't you think? Get it over and done with?"_

 _"Well, that would be best for Hermione, though I believe we'd enjoy it far more if it were to happen later on,"_ Clarice giggled, polished fingers picking up a flute of Champagne. " _Would you like some?_ "

" _I'm eleven,_ "Hermione stated, eyes wide at the thought of being allowed to drink at such a young age.

" _Oh aren't you just adorable! You'll need to be a bit light headed when you meet the Crone. Half a flute for our newest family member please,"_ the redhead ordered to a passing waiter who nodded. _"You're french now, ma chérie, you must develop your appreciation for fine champagne and wine as of now. Tell me do you know what Champagne with a capital C is?"_

 _"A dry sparkling white wine originating from the Champagne region in France?"_ Hermione answered in question.

" _Are you certain?_ " Clarice asked, one brow raised.

Gulping and holding the flute she was handed in the same way she could see everyone else holding it, she nodded. " _Yes_."

Both young ladies laughed in a loud but very ladylike manner. "O' you shall feet eento dis family quite nicely," the redhead claimed, her accent strong.

"I believe our cousin has already had too much to drink," Clarice joked. "Let us leave Marine alone. Come, let me take you to our dear old Crone, Guillaume is obviously too busy to think to do so," Clarice spoke in flawless English, quite like Guillaume but with an even more discreet accent.

Clarice placed a firm hand on Hermione's shoulder, guiding her through the large crowd that was apparently composed of only her family members. She had been told the Delacour family was a large one, but she hadn't imagined the proportions adequately. They were in the large ballroom of one of the many Delacour manors. This one had pearl white floors with a glass ceiling and five gold and crystal chandeliers. Two large window doors were open, leading to a beautiful terrasse that had two staircases that went all the way down to the garden filled with wild magical animals that had wandered in from the Fontainebleau Forest.

" _Ah she appears to be busy at the moment,"_ Clarice observed. " _No matter, we'll wait here. In the mean time, why don't I give you a little Delacour family history lesson? Many people here, you'll be glad to know."_

 _"I'd love to hear it,"_ Hermione said excitedly at the prospect of learning more about the Delacour family she knew so little about.

The gorgeous brunette pushed Hermione down into a seat and glanced around the room. " _Let's see, who's interesting enough to talk about?"_ She tapped her index finger against her chin thoughtfully. " _Ah well right over there,"_ she leaned forward, pointing at a broad shouldered man with black hair. " _The one by the fountain? That's Maxence Delacour, he's vying to be the French Minister of Magic, and though he'll not likely get the position, he's still a powerful man to be related to. Keep his name in mind if ever you find yourself in a pickle. Now who else? Oh see the blond?"_

 _"By the stairs?"_

 _"That's her,"_ Clarice nodded. _"That's Apolline De Chaillé, she's a half veela. Very powerful due to the fact that she has one of her mother's hair in her wand. The family blood and all makes the bond with her wand unbreakable."_

 _"Apolline did you say?"_

 _"Yes, why?"_

 _"No reason, I knew someone with the same name."_

 _"Oh I see... Well, Apolline isn't technically related to the Delacours, her great grandmother raised our grandmother which created a sort of family bond between the De Chaillés and the Delacours. They haven't been present at one of these events in a decade, I have no clue why they decided to show up this year,"_ she paused, turning towards the other side of the hall. " _There's someone interesting! Do you see that short, overly skinny man? Well don't be fooled by his appearance. He's one of the most deadly duelers you'll ever meet. The American Ministry of Magic tried to recrute him when he was but sixteen, to be one of their Aurors or whatever they call them on the other side of the pond. He refused though, can you believe it?!"_ Clarice laughed. " _By now Jean Fleury would have been head of the American Auror Departement!"_

 _"Anyway, on his left you can see Damocles Dumas, no relation to the well known muggle of the same name, but someone I would recommend you get to know. He's working in potions development and research,"_ Clarice spoke slowly, drawing out her words. " _He hasn't invented anything as of yet, but we must give him some time, he has only been out of Hogwarts for a few years after all."_

 _"Hogwarts?"_

 _"Like you Hermione, his family moved to England just before Beauxbatons started, and wanting him close to home, his parents_ _sent him to Hogwarts instead. Some say he's wasting his time in his current field but there are certain issues he considers important that he's working on and I have a feeling we'll be hearing his name sooner rather than later,"_ Clarice said, nodding and eyeing the tired looking man.

Hermione followed suit and watched the future inventor of the Wolfsbane potion, the very potion she was brewing with Aberforth Dumbledore. She was glad to know that Damocles' work would not be for naught, she simply hoped that her actions wouldn't somehow prevent him from discovering the secret to his potion. She had had no idea that he was related to the Delacours, however distantly, what a pleasant surprise.

"Ah! _Grandmère,_ is ready for you it seems! Come along!"

Clarice ushered Hermione up to the throne like seat that was occupied by a plump and wrinkly woman. Despite the white hair and wrinkly skin, Hermione could tell that the lady had been extremely beautiful in her day. Guillaume hurriedly stumbled to her side, straightening his wizarding tux and clearing his throat.

" _Grandmère, I'm pleased to introduce you to the newest addtion,"_ Guillaume announced awkwardly.

" _Step forward child,"_ the Crone ordered, her tone sharp, as if already fed up with the proceedings. She grabbed Hermione's face between her thumb and index and turned her left and right, observing her closely under ever angle. _"You don't look much like a Delacour, but in a few years I suppose it could be slightly believable. You have a brain, that I can tell, which should be sign that you won't completely disgrace the Delacour name. Guillaume didn't make a complete mistake by adopting you. However, I_ _sense something else within, child, you carry a heavy burden. Hide it if must, but do not let it consume you."_

Wrenching her face away Hermione nodded. " _I promise."_

With that, Hermione raced out of the room and onto the terrasse, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring into the ballroom with unseeing eyes. It didn't take long for Guillaume to come find her, coming to stand in front of her and, when she didn't react, he sat down beside her and pulled her into his lap. Hermione clenched her eyes shut and clutched his vest tightly in her fists.

"I've never seen the old crone accept anyone into the family so quickly, Hermione, there must be something wrong about you. So tell me, what's wrong?" He whispered.

 _"_ I don't know what to do, Guillaume."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't belong here. How can I exist when everyone I knew is dead or as good as?"

"You don't exist Hermione, you live. I'm sure you've been told before. Those who loved you wouldn't want you to waste away, they would want to to continue on, living to the fullest. You can't live in the past Hermione."

"You'd be surprised," Hermione muttered sarcastically but he didn't hear her.

"You can't risk forgetting to reach for the future."

"It's the past I'm risking," she stated with a shake of her head. "Not the future. You don't understand."

"You're right, I don't understand because I don't know what you've been through. But if the past is as horrible as you make it seem, you have nothing to lose in risking it."

"I have hope to lose."

"Well I can't tell you what do Hermione but, I can give you limited advice. One day when you find yourself on the edge of your grave, you want to be able to turn around, look behind you and say to yourself: I suffered often, I sometimes made mistakes, but I lived. It is _I_ who lived, and not an artificial being created by my pride, my fear and my boredom."

Hermione leaned back to meet his light blue gaze. "How is it you know nothing of the situation and yet give better and clearer advice than Dumbledore?" She teased.

"Delacour talent," he shrugged.

The pair stayed out on the terrasse for sometime still in silence, just enjoying the soothing presence of the other, Guillaume running a calming hand through Hermione's hair. Finally Hermione pushed herself off of his lap and noticed his gaze following a certain blond witch in the ballroom.

"You should go talk to her," Hermione encouraged.

"Pff, please, it's hardly approriate!" He scoffed. "I knew her back when we were kids, running around under the rain in the garden, in nothing but our underwear, sometimes not even that!"

"You've both grown since then and you've not seen her since she was what? Thirteen was it?"

"You know Hermione, you hardly ever sound like an actual eleven year old, sometimes, you sound even older than me!" He joked.

"I'm mature for my age," she shrugged. "Now go, before someone else does."

Squaring his shoulders, Guillaume set his jaw determinedly and strode across the room, planning on following Hermione's advice and asking Apolline De Chaillé for a dance.

* * *

"Apparently the school's going to organize a parent's day for muggleborns," Pandora told Hermione and Adrian who were sitting across from her.

"That'll never happen!" Hermione declared.

"Why not?"

"Honestly, haven't you read _Hogwarts: A History_? There's a great number of protective wards around the school, including a number to ward away muggles. The only day of the year those particular wards come down are for seventh year graduation and it's prepared for months in advance. Do you really think the professors would willingly put themselves under such strain just for one extra day?"

"Guess not," Adrian agreed, indifferent.

"Shame, really I would have found it fascinating to meet muggles," Pandora said, wishfully.

"You'll either have to seek them out yourself or wait till graduation, you pick but they won't be coming here anytime soon. Organizing a parents day would be incredibly hectic."

"You're only saying that because you have no parents. They probably never even wanted you in fact," a mocking voice stated from the table behind her.

Hermione turned around slowly, ignoring Pandora's wide eyes filled with horror and sparing a quick glance at Adrian, frozen with a fork full of pasta halfway to his mouth, who seemed to still be processing the words that had left James Potter's mouth. Hermione finally faced the Gryffindor table, her gaze filled with disbelief.

"What did you think that just because I learnt that you were being raised by your brother, I would stop pranking you?" James demanded, a quite cruel grin on his face.

Hermione lifted her chin defiantly, swallowed and glanced down at the ground briefly before meeting his gaze. "No, I didn't expect _that_ much for you. I simply thought that you were a decent enough human being to know that there are certain things you don't make fun of. The recent death of someone's parents being one of those things. Though I suppose, even _that_ was expecting too much from you. My mistake really, I shall know from now on to await the least from you. It was silly of me to presume that your parents had raised a decent son, though I don't understand where they went wrong seeing as they are some of the best people I have ever had privilege of knowing. It's a shame you seem so intent on disgracing them."

With a dramatic flick of her hair and a disdainful look, she was gone from their sight. She didn't stay long enough to see James' guilty wince as he turned to face his friends again. "May have gone to far with that one," he admitted.

"You think?" Remus all but growled, storming away from the table.

In that moment Hermione truly despised the Marauders, they were true bullies, though most saw them as amusing pranksters. Hermione completely understood why for a short moment in his life, Harry was convinced his father had tricked or cursed his mother into marrying him. Hermione wasn't sure when exactly the group went through their change but she hoped it would be soon, as she didn't want to hate them irrevoquably later on.

* * *

"Careful with the wolfsbane, Aberforth," Hermione breathed as she watched the wizard prepare the second batch of Wolfsbane potion. "A slip too much and it could kill the person who drinks it, werewolf or not."

Hermione was surprised by how careful the wizard was in his potion making compared to his glass cleaning, which was subpar at best. The pair of them were close to finishing the second batch of Wolfsbane, as Hermione wanted to be sure the wizard knew how to make it like the back of his hand, before trusting him with the task of making it. Him being a Dumbledore, she was not surprised when he succeeded in making it perfectly in one go, nonetheless, she had to check it wasn't just luck. After verifying the potion simmering in the cauldron, Hermione picked up the vial sitting on the desk and threw on her cloak.

"I've got to get going, but thank you again for helping me with this," she said.

"Surprisingly enough this has been quite an experience for me as well and I can add this to the very short list of things I believe haven't been a waste of my time."

"So you'll agree to keep brewing it for me?" She inquired slowly.

"Hmh," was his only acquiescence as he looked into the cauldron.

"Perfect, don't forget to add molly every next half hour until moonrise," she reminded.

"Half a spoonful of it, crushed," he interrupted, making her grin in amusement.

"Exactly."

"Oh and Hermione?" Said girl paused, one foot out the door. "Do tell me if the boy dies." Though his words and tone were rather abrupt and bold, Hermione could see the slight concern hidden away in his eyes.

"He won't but, I will," she agreed, a small smile fighting it's way onto her face.

 **A/N: Once again, I apprecaite all constructive criticism and happy opinions! Don't hesitate to share or ask any questions!**

 **Don't judge James too harshly! Yes he's despicable at the moment but keep in mind that he's an eleven year old boy who believes the world is his for the taking. He'll get better. He has both Hermione Granger and Lily EVANS to teach him the error of his ways.**

 **PS. Though I reread and rereread all my chapters, many typos and spelling mistakes seem to escape my radar so please forgive me for them! I try my best, honest!**


	8. Chapter 8: Friends

**A/N: I have a few things to say about James: I realize that some of you thought James was a bit too cruel in the last chapter but as** Paulaa90 **put it, "they were bullies, no matter how you slice it"! And even back in her own time, Hermione was bullied, it's just the way things go! If you reread the scene, you will understand that James felt bad at the end, realizing that he went too far! I made James make a mistake because I consider him a young boy, who doesn't yet realize the power words can have on others. He'll learn don't worry! Besides, like** cares **1970 said, James and Sirius share Black genes... Inbreeding and all that, he's bound to be a little wrong in the head.**

 **Sorry for the slow update but I was away in Germany for a week and then it was Christmas so I had so much to do!**

 **I just have to thank you all for your reviews! I think you are the best reviewers I've ever had! I adore all my loyal reviewers, you guys are definitely the best! But I always love all you one time opinion sharers, sometimes you point out some really important things I didn't even notice! Keep it up please! It's a huge motivator!**

Hermione was creeping through the hallways leading to the Hogwart's greenhouses. If she had thought her actions through more thoroughly she would have realized that her creeping was completely unnecessary but as it were, Hermione was using her eleven year old brain and _not_ the one she had used to escape countless perilous situations time and time again. Right now she was truly just a child hoping not to get caught by any of her classmates. Hermione slammed her body against the cold stone wall when the sound of loud laughter and numerous heavy feet slapping against dirty slush reached her ears. The group of third year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students didn't even glance her way and only once they were out of Hermione's sight, did she realize how silly she was being. What she was doing was completely acceptable and she wasn't breaking any rules, so why in the world was she acting as if anyone glancing her way would know what she was up to?

Trying to shake some sense into herself she continued forward, heading toward the smallest greenhouse, the one where Pomona Sprout grew her private stocks. Hermione hurried through the last hallway, slipping a few times on the melting snow covering the cobbled floor. Hermione eyed the discreet glass door with beautiful floral carvings that was covered in frost. She whispered the password that Professor Sprout had told her when Hermione explained to her what she needed for her personal research. Hermione made sure to shut the door carefully behind her before glancing around the greenhouse. Bright sun rays were seeping through the frost covered windows, covering the plants with varying amounts of light, creating a mystical atmosphere.

"Now where did she say she was growing it?" Hermione murmured to herself.

As she remembered, Hermione started advancing towards the far back of the greenhouse and passed a number of large water jars where she could see Gillyweed growing. She gasped in surprise when she saw Pandora leaning over one of the jars, holding an oversized soup laddle and obviously trying to catch something in the jar.

"Oh! Hello Hermione," Pandora greeted peacefully.

"Dora, what are you doing in here?" Hermione wondered.

"I come here every week," she said with a shrug. "I find magical plants fascinating, don't you? There's so much one can do with them if they're mixed in a potion! Professor Sprout gave me unlimited access to her greenhouse so that I could satisfy my curiosity. As long as I don't exhaust any of her stock."

"That's generous of her," Hermione observed.

Pandora dipped her arm into the water filled with Gillyweed as she tried to reach something at the very bottom of the jar. "Well, most witches and wizards overlook Herbology, thinking it to be a rather useless field. Professor Sprout said she's happy to help the rare person with even the slightest hint of curiosity for Herbology since she doesn't come across one often," she bent forward, trying to see into the jar properly. "I'm guessing that's why you're here as well. You must have expressed some sort of curiosity for it."

"I did," Hermione agreed, somewhat put out by the fact that she had decided to collect her necessary plant on the day that another student decided to expand their knowledge in a field no one but the wise cared about.

Hermione watched Pandora struggle for a moment longer before excusing herself and continuing on her way. As she reached the back corner of the greenhouse, Hermione immediately recognized the black tendrils growing along the brick wall where no light was shining. After a quick glance around Hermione spotted an old gas lamp hanging on a hook, partially covered in the tentacle-like plant and with a precise flick of her wrist the lamp flickered to life, causing the Devil's Snare to curl and twist away, enabling her to reach the Wolfsbane easily. She picked up a pair of used dragon-hide gloves and ajusted them to fit her snuggly with a use of wandless magic that would make Professor McGonagall proud. The brunette was soon snipping at the plant, dropping the cut parts into a perfect sized metal container.

"Potioneers have been trying to work with Aconite for centuries now, nothing has ever come of it," a soft voice said behind her.

Hermione resisted the urge to grab her wand and stab the girl who had managed to surprised her but controlled her war reflexes and simply gasped, redirecting her hand to clutch her chest instead of her wand. "Pandora, you surprised me!"

"Sorry," Pandora excused herself, her tone regretful. "I didn't mean to..." She paused her gaze falling on the plant Hermione was working on. "I was just curious about what you were doing here. I don't come across other students here often," she justified her curiosity.

"Oh, I just needed a few plants for some personal potion research," Hermione explained, carelessly.

Pandora nodded and stayed silent for a moment, merely observing as Hermione went back to work. Hermione, though slightly disconcerted, tried to continue cutting off parts of the Wolfbane she needed, under the overly aware gaze of Pandora. "You've noticed as well, haven't you?" Pandora inquired, softly.

"Noticed what?" Hermione asked, an amused frown growing on her face as she tried to act confused. "I'm just curious to know if I can use this plant in certain potions, there's no other reason behind what I'm doing."

Pandora smiled in a dazed way and pulled her long and perfectly styled hair out of her face. Her silver-blue gaze remained locked on Hermione's hazel-brown eyes for a moment. "It's very selfless of you Hermione, to want to help him... You may just be one of the few... No one is interested in _helping_ werewolves, just in pushing them out of society and avoiding them as much as possible. Whether it's out of fear or disgust, doesn't matter... It's wrong all the same," Pandora shook her head sadly.

"Why are you saying all this Dora?"

"No one knows about my brother, he changed his name so he wouldn't _sully_ the family name. My parents tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen. He threatened to leave and never come back if they didn't let him do it to protect us. So in the end they gave in. I rarely see my brother nowadays. More so now that I'm in school. I can barely remember how old he is. I can barely remember what he looks like most of the time. I spend so much time trying to recall his facial features. Every night I mentally draw the scar that runs down his neck to his heart and ruined his life."

"Why are you telling me this Pandora?" Hermione questioned, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Because I hate what society made him do. I hate the fact that everyone but my family knows that he didn't die the night he was attacked by a werewolf. I hate that he's so ashamed of himself for something he can't help and I hate the fact that he didn't come celebrate christmas with me this year because he's so afraid of what we truly think of him, never believing that I still admire him as an older brother or that our parents are still unbelievably proud of him. He is more terrified of us than he is everyone else and I can't stand it. And you can't let Remus feel the same as him."

"How do you know I'm not going to run out of this greenhouse and tell everyone I see about your brother?" Hermione challenged.

"Because you're friends with Remus and obviously you know what he is," Pandora explained, motioning towards the Wolfsbane. "Mostly though, I know you won't tell because you're a good person and respect everyone who respects you, even some who don't... But also because of your scar, the one on your left hip."

Hemrione tensed and stared at Pandora with wide eyes. "Don't worry Hermione, I only saw it because you forgot to shut the dorm bathroom door one morning. I had forgotten my Transfiguration homework and came back in the room. I saw you putting a gauze on the cut when it was still swollen. I recognized it immediately, my brother had many cuts just like that one after the attack."

Hermione relaxed slightly, her mind coming to the conclusion that someone with a werewolf brother wasn't about to tell anyone about her werewolf scar. "Your secret is safe with me Hermione, though you wouldn't be in any danger of being rejected, seeing as you don't transform."

"You never know how certain people might react due to fear and prejudice," Hermione observed.

"You can trust me Hermione, same as I trusted you with my secret," Pandora smiled. "We're friends after all."

Hermione grimaced sadly as she realized that she now had two friends in this time. "I never thought I'd have more than Adrian as a friend."

"And I never thought I'd have any friends," Pandora joked. "But here we are. Friends."

"Everyone in Ravenclaw loves you Dora, how did you ever think you'd be friendless?"

"I'm a bit perculiar, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, sure, but that's the main reason why people adore you. Just look at that third year bloke, Lovegood or something. He's far more odd than you and he has friends in almost all houses!"

"Certainly, but he also has charisma, a good sense of humour and he's handsome."

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, he has his faults I'm sure," Hermione joked.

Pandora nodded and picked up a small jug, closed with a lid covered in small holes, containing a small frog. The frog moved from one wall of the jar to another, never staying still and continously changing colour, going from pink to black to orange to green.

Pandora caught Hermione's questioning gaze and smiled sheepishly. "I gave him a bit of sugar in order to get him into the jar, so he's a bit hyper."

"What are you going to do with him?" Hermione wondered, remembering that Pandora had said she came in here to collect fresh ingredients for her potion making experiments. Hermione felt a small stab of pity for the small, mucus covered animal.

Pandora giggled, as if understanding where Hermione's thought was heading. "I came in here yesterday to fetch a few Gillyweeds when I came across this poor little guy stuck in one jar, trying to jump out but failing miserably. So I came back today to catch him. I'm going to let him out in the Black Lake."

"Can I come with you?" Hermione asked.

Without a word Pandora encouraged Hermione to do just that and together both girls headed outside, holding back shivers due to the sudden cold that spread over their bodies. They stopped near the boulder where Hermione and Adrian often sat. The rock sank far out into the water and the girls climbed onto it, carefully crossing the stone and kneeling at the end of it where the water was relatively deep, enough so that their feet wouldn't thouch the ground if they decided to go for a dip. Hermione waved her wand over the ice, melting it silently. She reached down and pushed the left over ice away clearing the area for the small frog. She watched as Pandora lowered the jar into the water and the frog swam out into the cold water, turning it's colour to fit the ice around him, his body now a beautiful white-blue colour. Both girls reached into the water and the frog bounced off both their hands a few times as if thanking them, before diving into the water happily, disappearing from sight. Hermione and Pandora giggled in innocent delight as they straightened up not noticing the much larger figure approaching the surface.

They shrieked in surprised when a huge body broke even more ice as it broke the surface just before them. They stumbled backwards and tripped, falling heavily onto their backsides in shock. There, floating before them was the Giant Squid, it's tentacles curling in the water and in the air as if fighting the urge to grab the girls and drag them under the water.

"Oh my," Pandora breathed, never having seen the squid this close before.

In fact, as she thought about it, she had never even seen the squid before and she was willing to bet no one had ever seen it this close before. A sharp squealing sort of noise started to surround them and Hermione was almost tempted to cover her ears when the creature reached two tentacles out hesitantly, one approaching each girl slowly. The girls refused to move, frozen to the spot in a mixture of fear and fascination. Suddenly, the tip of each tentacle touched their cheeks and the squid shut his eyes for a moment while long, painful sounding moan-like sounds escaped it as it released Pandora from his touch. Then he released Hermione as well, glared at the young girls before him and with a dry sounding squealing noise dived back into the depths of the Great Lake, sending a wave of freezing water onto the girls who screamed and ran away, their bodies trembling in the cold. By the time they reached the entrance hall, their hair was frozen and their clothes were still dripping a little water onto the floor despite being covered in a thin layer of white frost. Laughing loudly, they pulled off their scarves and squeezed them tight, trying to empty them of water.

Struggling to catch her breath through her laughter and chattering teeth, Hermione spoke. "That was incredible!"

"I think he did it on purpose!" Pandora exclaimed in amusement.

Hermione pulled out her wand and dried her friend before drying herself. Neither girl noticed the crowd of students gathering around them, eyeing the puddle of water they were leaving at their feet. Hermione wrapped her arm around Dora and went walking into the hall, searching for Adrian at the Ravenclaw table ignoring the somewhat curious looks from the Hogwart students who had seen them enter the school soaking wet.

* * *

Hermione was sitting alone at her usual table in the library. She had quickly finished her homework and was now relaxing alone. She didn't expect Remus to join her today. She had grown used to the fact that Remus avoided her for two weeks a month, during the week preceeding his transformation and the one following the full moon. Seeing as he knew about her werewolf scar, she wasn't surprised he tried to avoid her as much as possible when his attitude was closest to that of a werewolf. Hermione supposed he was afraid she would recognize what he was and shun him, or worse, destroy what little happiness he had by revealing his secret. It was ludicrious of course, but he didn't know her well enough yet to believe she would remain his friend even if she knew. He didn't know her well enough to know she had her fair share of secrets as well, secrets that could save lives. Or ruin them. How could he know that she was just as afraid as him, scared daily that she would shatter someone's life? He couldn't understand that she was just as much a danger to everyone around her as he was, if not more so.

Nevertheless, she let him be. If he thought it was best, she would let him do as he pleased, until the time came for her to give him the potion and reveal to him the fact that she knew. Unfortunately, he would have to suffer through a few more painful transformations. She would only give him the potion before the summer holidays, first, Aberforth and her were growing their stock of Wolfsbane potion and it would give Remus a bit more time to get to know her.

Sighing tiredly, Hermione closed the book she had chosen for a bit of light reading. It was time for dinner and she was already late. She put the book away, leaving the library and slowly going down to the Great Hall. Only going for the sake of appearances, not to eat, as she was not at all hungry. As a last minute decision, Hermione turned around and went to fetch the Founders diary, deciding to read a bit more of it and hopefully, find some information about how and why she had come to be here. Holding it closely to her chest Hermione started down the stairs once again. When she reached the second floor staircase, she paused as the sound of running water and the splashing noise her feet were making on the ground. Lifting a foot she ducked her head to glance at the floor, noticing the flooding corridor. The water was everywhere, falling down the stairs and gradually flooding the first floor corridor as well. Shaking her head, Hermione turned and went down the corridor to the girls lavatory. Hermione was surprised that Moaning Myrtle was being so silent. Usually, when she flooded her toilet, she was moaning and groaning loudly so that everyone could know of her misery. Hermione carefully placed her book on a dry counter and ventured farther into the toilet.

"Hello little Myrtle," she called, in a calm voice.

A loud whimpering responded her call and Hermione wandered over to where she had heard the noise. It was coming from a stall in the far corner of the lavatory. Not Myrtle's usual place but then, Hermione supposed even ghosts could be creative.

"I'm coming in Myrtle," she warned and receiving no answer pushed open the green door. Hermione paused, a reassuring smile on her face as her gaze raked over the person occupying the stall. "Well... You're not Myrtle," Hermione observed, as she eyed the crying girl curled up between the wall and the toilet.

Hermione knelt down in front of the red-haired girl and placed her hands in her lap. "In a few years you won't be able to fit in between there anymore, so I suppose you should enjoy it while it lasts, but I'll still ask you to get out of there. It doesn't seem the most comfortable," Hermione tried to tease.

The girl sniffed and finally glanced up, her bright green red-rimmed eyes meeting Hermione's warm orbs. "So Lily Evans, care to tell me what you're doing hiding in Myrtle's flooded bathroom?" Hermione inquired, her eyes suddenly widening in shock as she looked at the water around them. "Don't tell me _you_ did this?" Hermione shook her head. "Myrtle won't be pleased."

Lily giggled, wiping her tears away. "Myrtle did this a while ago. She was trying to get rid of me I think, but I wasn't really listening to a word she was saying."

"It's best that way. Myrtle says things she doesn't mean when she's upset," Hermione, feeling a cramp in her knees from her postion, shifted into a sitting one and placed her chin in her palms. "So, what's upsetting _you_ then? Because I already know why Myrtle is upset."

"You seem to know Myrtle well," Lily stated, her tone curious.

Hermione shrugged. "Not more than the average student I'd say."

Lily eyed Hermione suspiciously, but accepted the girl's response, seeing as she obviously didn't want to explain. "So what's troubling you Lily? You look like you could use to get it off your shoulders'."

"It's not something, more like someone!" Lily claimed, her voice filled with frustration and anger. "James Potter! He's absolutely despicable! He's always teasing me, mocking me, pranking me! I mean, you know how it is, he targets you just as much as me and he even knows your parents, I saw you on the Platform 9 and 3/4s but that doesn't stop him!" Hermione let Lily go on, not bothering to tell her that she had no parents. Just a brother. Now just wasn't the time to correct her. "He and his friends are cruel, petty, evil little boys and he deserves nothing more than the worst."

Hermione didn't speak for a while, thinking over Lily's words. Though she agreed with Lily, she knew it was temporary, he would grow out of his bullying phase, he would become more of a prankster than a bully one day and then, later, he would become a man. A man Lily would care for. But that wasn't anytime soon so Hermione searched for a way to calm Lily so that they could both go and eat.

"Evil. Yes I suppose he is somewhat of an evil child. Not as evil as certain others but, evil to us. At the moment that is. He'll grow out of it one day, I'm sure. He's just searching for the way he's going to live his life. Evil is live spelled backwards afterall. I think it's safe to say that anyone who's evil when they are young is simply searching for their life and how they plan to live their future. Whether he remains evil or not depends on him and what he chooses to be. We can only hope that he realizes the pain he causes us and others and realize that that's not the type of person he wants to be. I once knew a boy, older than me, who was the worst bully I've come across, he had the choice to follow in his father's footsteps and become truly evil, or be like his mother, someone more in between, more human. Everything he was, did and said pointed to him choosing to be like his father but... He didn't. And one day, he saved my life, despite everything."

Hermione paused, meeting Lily's confused gaze. "If the boy I knew who was treated terribly by his father could become a relatively decent human being than so can James. James has wonderful parents who love him very much. He won't want to disappoint them. I suggest, Lily, that you hate him if you must, I know I've hated him my fair share of times this year, but I've forgiven him, even if he hasn't asked me to do so yet. I can bet my life though, that one day, perhaps in a year, perhaps in five, James will come up to us and ask for forgiveness and I will be ready to give it to him. Don't think I'm excusing his actions. Far from it. He's a right git and his friends are prats, apart from maybe Remus. I'm just saying that he might change and let you be."

"You don't sound like an eleven year old," Lily muttered as she accepted Hermione's hand.

Hermione waved her hand both to dry herself and Lily and to wave away Lily's comment. "I suppose that's why I have so few friends. I'm too mentally old for the average eleven year old."

Chuckling, Hermione and Lily left the bathroom. Hermione made sure to grab her book on the way out and accompanied Lily to the Great Hall doors. Lily stopped in front of the doors and turned to Hermione.

"Thank you for helping me today, Hermione. Without you I'd probably still be in there by curfew," Hermione smiled. "But I don't really feel like going in there," Lily said, gesturing to the Hall. "Would you mind getting Severus for me? I really don't want to see James tonight."

"No problem," Hermione agreed, moving to enter the Hall. "I'll see you around, Lily."

"You're a good friend, Hermione."

Hermione didn't answer but continued on her way, wondering if Lily truly considered her a friend. They rarely spoke and most of their interactions happened in class where they would debate certain subjects. In fact, today had been their first real personal interaction. With a shrug, Hermione continued on her way towards the Slytherin table attracting the attention of numerous students. She was strolling down to where she could see Severus Snape eating, his back facing the Gryffindor table.

"Hello Severus," she greeted, stopping when she reached his level.

"Since when is she friends with Snivellus?" A disgusted voice spat from the Gryffindor table.

Hermione took it upon herself to ignore Sirius Black and continued smiling brightly a Severus.

"Hermione Delacour," Snape spoke, hiding his confusion brilliantly.

To the outside observer, he did not seem the slightest bit perturbed by her presence. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me outside for a moment? I remember you telling me about a flower and I think I've found it!" She claimed, fake excitement filling her voice.

"The white molly I mentioned the other day?" Severus exclaimed, standing up and grabbing a few breadrolls, playing along with her game, picking up on what she was doing.

"Yes, though I'm not sure it _is_ molly... I just thought it looked like it."

"Well, I may as well check it out, I have nothing else to do."

Together they both left the Great Hall under a number of disgruntled stares from the group of future Marauders.

"Lily?" Severus whispered, so that only Hermione could hear him as they walked.

"Lily," Hermione nodded. "She's waiting for you outside. She wasn't feeling up to facing James tonight."

"Thank you," Severus spoke, his voice sounding reluctant.

Hermione shrugged as the pair reached Lily, who was leaning against a wall, hiding from sight. "You're a life saver Hermione! Thank you so much."

"I couldn't just leave you, now could I?"

"Many would have, not wanting to get involved."

"Perhaps... Well, I'll let you two be! It's time for me to eat before everything is sent back to the kitchens."

She waved to the pair and walked back into the Great Hall, joining Adrian who was being held company by Pandora. "Finally decided to join us, have you?" Adrian teased.

"I was held back, lots to do," she shrugged, picking at a breadroll.

"What were you doing with Severus Snape?" He wanted to know.

"I talked to Lily and she wanted him but didn't dare enter the Great Hall, so I fetched him for her."

Not much in the mood to chat, Hermione pulled out her book, smiling to herself when she caught sight of the amused and slightly exasperated look Pandora and Adrian shared with each other when they saw her reading what Hermione claimed was her favorite book. Even though _Hogwarts: A History_ would always be the most magical book she had ever read, the Founders' diary had easily dethroned her favorite book.

 _November 27th, 993_

 _It's been a week now that Salazar and I have been locked up in the library scouring books for information. Helga and Godric have tried to understand our thirst for knowledge but do not share the same deep desire as us and so have merely taken up the job of making sure we are fed and alive. Even if they decided to help us search they could not help us much, Salazar's and my logic by far surpasses their capacities. They would not understand our search process. It is best they wait for our conclusions._

 _I shared my theory about Merlin's heir with Salazar and he seems to believe I am correct. We have taken it upon ourselves to research Magic Heirs as we know that Merlin has no Blood Heirs. However, our researches have led us to the same result, again and again. In order to become a Magic Heir, the wizard himself, who wishes to transfer his Magic, in this case Merlin, must be alive and must give his Magic to a live and willing witch or wizard. Merlin has long since been dead, though no one has seen his body. Due to recent events, however I have no proof, I would bet that his coffin rests with his book. This would mean that if Merlin did indeed, choose a Magic Heir, his heir would be dead decades ago._

 _One solution would be to make sure that his Magic be passed on magically, generation to generation. This would weaken the strength of the Magic he chose to pass on and would be a very unsafe method, putting his Magic in a very real risk of disappearing before reaching it's destination._

 _Merlin would not resort to such an uncertain technique. He must have found a way around it. But no matter how many books Salazar and I devour, we cannot find the solution, though the sensation that the answer is just under our noses tickles our minds. Salazar grows frustrated and I anxious. Tensions are growing between us all, despite trying to remain on friendly terms. The thirst_ for _knowledge just might destroy us before we manage to figure it out._

 _-Rowena Ravenclaw_

* * *

Hermione was holding a small bordeau velour pouch, fiddling with the golden ropes that held it shut. It was the Wednesday just before the summer holidays and Hermione was waiting for Remus in the library, knowing she wouldn't have time to see him again and deciding there would be no better time to give him his first dose that would hopefully last him all summer. She carefully placed the bag on the table and pushed and tugged at it until it seemed to sit on the table perfectly. At last, Hermione heard Remus round the corner to their secluded study area. He dropped his bag on the floor, not even glancing at Hermione and pulled out a book, opening it to a page he had clearly marked.

He didn't notice Hermione sitting still, in front of him, not moving as she stared at him intensely. Hermione couldn't decide if he was purposefully ignoring the sensation of her gaze burning into his scalp or if he was truly cluesless but Hermione couldn't stand it much longer and took it upon her to draw his attention.

"Hello Remus," her voice sounded harsher than she had meant and Remus froze across from her. "Hello Remus," she said again, her voice softer and quieter, sorry to have made him nervous.

"Hermione," he spoke carefully, slowly looking up from his book, his gaze briefly resting on the tiny package on the table before meeting her gaze.

"I was waiting for you," she informed him.

"I've just noticed," he spoke carefully shifting nervously, his eyes darting quickly from her to the bag on the table.

"Did you know I have a distant cousin who works in potions research and development?" She questioned.

"Um... No?" Remus replied, his tone suggesting his answer was a question rather than an answer.

"Well I do!" Hermione exclaimed, eagerly. "He's currently trying to create a potion for a very specific reason. Something he's very passionate about because his closest friend is involved."

"How... Interesting?" Remus offered, nervous.

"It is, isn't it?" Hermione agreed choosing to ignore his flinch at her excited tone. "Anyway, almost everyone thinks he's wasting his time and talent. I think he's brilliant! He's sacrifising his life to help his friend. And recently, he thinks he's really onto something. He hasn't told anyone, only his friend and myself because I brought it up with him at Christmas and I told him certain things that made him believe he could trust me. He's tested the potion multiple times and though it's not perfect nor finished, it works well enough and when I asked if I could have some, he agreed, he figured one more test subject couldn't hurt. That is if you agree. He's tested it on five others and nothing bad has ever happened."

Remus was watching her with wide worried eyes, apprehension filling his every cell. "All that's left for him to do is fine tune it, all experiments are done. It's really only to help you out that he's doing this for me."

"Hermione," Remus interrupted. "What is this?"

"Merlin! I haven't even told you yet! How foolish of me!" Hermione claimed, pushing the velvet bag closer to him. "Take a look."

Hesitantly, Remus picked up the bag, opened it and slid the glass vial inside onto his hand. He rolled it around until he could read the label and froze at the words he made out.

"Wolfsbane," he choked out, meeting Hermione's gaze that was full of hope.

"It'll help you, it's supposed to make the full moon easier for the werewolf. I would have loved for you to talk to my cousin and maybe meet with a few of the other wolves taking it but it's too risky. He wants to remain completely anonymous until he publicly releases the potion. He trusts me and by extension you, to keep the existance of this potion and where you get it from completely quiet. No one can know."

"You must hate me," Remus muttered, searching her gaze, seeking out well-veiled disgust and fear.

"Does it look like I hate you?" She challenged.

He tried to find hate in her eyes but instead found nothing but... Nothing. Her gaze was filled with her usual warmth and respect. It was the look she betowed on everyone, even Sirius and James from time to time, when they weren't victimizing her. There wasn't a hint of fear, hate, pity or judgment in her eyes. Just warmth. The fact that her gaze was the same as always made him stay, he knew if he had seen even a hint a pity or anything else he would have fled the room, leaving the potion with her.

"You have every reason to," he said, glancing at her meaningfully.

Hermione knew he was talking about her werewolf scar he heard her talking about with Madam Pomfrey. "You were attacked by a wolf weren't you? I smelt him on you in the Hospital Wing, that day."

"You could smell him? But it had been months since his attack."

"A wolf leaves his scent on any scar he makes. That day, the cut was still unhealed, so I could smell it easily, especially since it was so close to the full moon. Now that it's healed, I'd only be able to smell it if you were very close to me and the full moon was close as well. The wolf who scarred you, he marked his property, so that any other wolf who comes near you will know."

Hermione was fascinated by his words but disgusted by the fact that she was marked as belonging to that vile man. Remus eyed the look on Hermione's face warily. "I recognized the scent. It was the same one that covered me after my attack. The smell that still covers me. You were attacked by Greyback."

Hermione froze at his name, her body shaking as her mind travelled back to the dreadful night. "He's a monster."

Remus recoiled at her words. "But not you," Hermione told him. "You're just Remus, a teen werewolf."

"I'm just like Greyback."

"Don't be outrageous. Greyback isn't a monster because he's werewolf, he just uses that as an advantage, he's a monster because of his personality. You are not. You're kind, shy and brave. You are the farthest thing from a monster I've ever met."

Remus smiled, obviously not believing her words but letting her say them nonetheless. "You're my friend Remus, and I hope that you understand that my knowing changes nothing. You'll always be my friend. If ever you want to talk about it, don't hesitate to come to me."

When she paused, Remus eyed her mischievously as something clicked in his mind. "You know since we're both marked by the same wolf, if you transformed, we'd be part of the same pack and in the werewolf world that's the equivalent of being part of the same family," he joked.

"I'd be honoured to be part of your family Remus," she murmured.

Remus felt a wave of happiness and protectiveness flare inside him and though he couldn't comprehend why he felt protective of her so suddenly, he welcomed it. He may not dare to protect her from his friends, the paralysing fear of being excluded from the group preventing him from doing so, he would protect her from anything and anyone else to the best of his ability. The pair walked down to the potion classroom, their free lesson over and their Potion lesson about to start. They continued talking until the classroom door was open and they had to seperate to take their seats. Hermione joined Adrian at their usual table in front of Sirius, James, Remus and Peter.

"Why the blood hell were you talking to _Delacour_?" Sirius demanded.

Hermione pretended she couldn't hear them, handing an empty glass vial to Adrian who passed it on the Pandora, who also shared their group potion making table. Said girl smiled gratefully and gathered a few dried leaves inside it.

"She's my friend," she heard Remus say and she could imagine his tired shrug.

Hermione ducked her head to hide her happy grin at his words. "The bloody hell since when?" James exclaimed.

"We've been studying together all year, and though I only realized we were really friends recently, it's safe to say we've been friends for a long time."

"You're a lost cause, mate, befriending her," Sirius said with a shake of his head. "But whatever floats your boat I guess."

"She's a good friend," Remus said in response, not managing to convice his friends but admittedly, not caring. He was happy and he was safe.

He rolled the velvet bag between his fingers with a smile. Yes, he was happy and safe and just maybe, his transformations would be getting better as well.

 **A/N: There you have it. End of Hermione's first year in the Marauder's era. I might put the summer holidays in the next chapter but as she's still physically a bit young to do anything very interesting like going after certain magical artifacts, her first few summers will be rather normal. I might just use them to build on her relationships with Guillaume and Aberforth and a few others, we'll see. Though a lot of the main scenes of this story are already written, linking chapters and other ones like this one have yet to be written.**

 **Please tell me what you think and what you want? Do you want to learn a bit more about Guillaume and Aberforth? Do you want to see her summer in detail (at this stage in Hermione's life, it'll be a chapter max). Don't hesitate to tell me what you'd like to see happen and what you thought of this chapter! Much appreciated.**


	9. Chapter 9: Summer bustle and hustle

**A/N: This time I'm staying silent and not blabbering on uselessly... I'm only going to say: Enjoy! And tell me what you think! for example** Lemons2004 **asked for a hint more of humour, and I just might find a few spots to add a bit of humour, just for** Lemons **... Though don't worry, right now it might be a bit dull, I've got a lot of humorous scenes planned, expecially between Hermione/Adrian and the Marauders... hint hint.**

 **Btw a review in a previous chapter made me wonder about my summary so I changed it... If any of you have any spare time, could you tell me what you think of it: should I go back to the first one, change all over again or keep it as it is now? Thank you for your honest opinion!**

 **Thank you to all my lovely reviewers you guys are the best! You truly are! Keep it up, I love them all, constructive criticism, total love, opinions, ideas and even slight disappointment, -cause it helps me make decisions, as long as it's not heart-breaking-**

 **(I feel the need to point out that this is not as much of a filler chapter as it looks. It is setting the scene for very distant chapters.)**

Hermione and Adrian were sitting in their compartment, not talking nor interacting. If one were to walk by, they would think that the two did not know one another and never planned to get to know the other. This was not the case, as most people in the train knew. The pair simply didn't feel the need to always acknowledge the other. Gradually, loud noises started drifting into their compartment as a group of rowdy boys approached. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes when the Marauders followed by two other second year Gryffindors opened their compartment door. They paused at the door, Sirius and James sharing a meaningful glance. Remus shoved through them, frustrated with their attitude and took a seat next to Hermione with an annoyed sigh.

"Honestly, there's no room in any of the other compartments for all of us. This is as good as it's going to get. Take it or leave it," he almost growled. "Eager for the holidays, Hermione?" He inquired.

"We can't share a compartment with them!" James claimed.

"Believe me when I say we aren't any more pleased than you about this arrangement," Adrian murmured.

Grumpily the boys sat down, soon forgetting about the presence of the two unwanted compartment occupants and started to joke around with their other Gryffindor friends. Not long after, the trolly lady peeked her head inside, smiling at the large group.

"Anything off the trolly, Dears?" She questioned pleasantly.

Sirius jumped up and quickly pulled out all his spare change. "I'll take three Magic Frogs, two packs of Bertie's Every Flavored Beans and five liquorice wands. You want anything, James?"

Each boy took their turn in buying their food, Hermione choosing to remain empty-bellied until they arrived at Kings Cross. She went back to her book, ignoring the dirty looks she occasionally received from Sirius and James.

"Can you chew _any_ louder?" She demanded sarcastically, glaring at James and Sirius who were both stuffing their faces with candy.

"We can eat however we want!" James claimed. "It's a free country."

"But now that you mention it," Sirius added, looking around thoughtfully.

Hermione watched with a grimace as they started chewing with their mouths wide open, grins plastered on their faces at what they considered a clever joke. Hermione rolled her eyes, this time not even trying to fight the urge to hide her ire. She stood up with an angry expression on her face.

"Urgh," she spat. "You boys are vile," she muttered, stuffing her book in her bag. "Eating like a bunch of pigs."

Only Remus and Adrian noticed the suddenly amused glint in Hermione's eyes as a certain thought crossed her mind.

Shaking her head she roughly shoved James' legs out of her way as she walked towards the exit of the compartment. "Well, if you insist on eating like pigs, you may as well look like them."

The boys all glanced at each other, not understanding her words and before they could question her, she was gone with a practised flick of her wand hand, that the boys took as her dismissing them from her thoughts as she left. They went on eating, not even noticing that the noises now escaping their mouths were pig-like squeals and snorts. When Adrian picked up on it, he quickly left, staring at the boys with wide eyes, trying to hold in his laughter, leaving an undecided Remus, who was now looking from the door to his pig friends. Deciding to stay it only took a moment longer for the train to be filled with girly screams of horror and squeals of terrified pigs.

"Why don't you look like us?!" Demanded a group of indignant boys, pointing accusingly at the only normal looking boy with them.

With a somewhat satisfied grin, Remus shrugged. "I don't treat her the same way you guys do. She appreciates me," he explained, smugly.

Seeing as how none of the boys knew how to reverse the spell cast on them they remained pig-like during their whole ride home trying to hide from the mocking students purposefully walking by their door. Sirius hastily tried to tug down the blind over the window on the door but found it stuck open by a magical force. Thus the five boys sat grumpily in their seats, glaring at Remus who was calmly reading a book while other students strolled by, bursting into laughter at the sight they saw. When the train finally pulled into the train station the boys raced out to find their parents to beg them to remove the unpleasent enchantment. James hurried over to his mother, and Sirius, deciding it was for the best that his mother not see him in such a state, followed close behind. The two paused only for a moment when they saw Hermione and her brother already chatting with the older couple.

"Mom! Help me!" James demanded, glaring evilly at the girl standing beside his mother.

Mrs Potter turned a concerned gaze on her son, her eyes widening at his transformed features, observing his nose in worry as she pulled out her wand. "James, what in the world have you been up to!? Have you eaten a cheese-based potion?" His mother questioned, shaking her head in exasperation. "Honestly James, you know what those do to you! This isn't the first time either!" She scolded.

"It wasn't my fault! It was Delacour who did this to me!" He proclaimed, causing his mother to pause her wand movements.

"Oh really? And what did you do to poor Hermione to deserve this?"

" _Poor Hermione_?" James repeated incredously. " _I_ am clearly the victim here and you say 'poor Hermione'?!" James sounded scandalized.

"Well, I'd like to think that Hermione wouldn't do something as extreme and serious as this without reason," Dorea tried to calm him, sending a wink Hermione's way.

"I'll have you know that I am in no way at fault, _mother,_ " he spoke the word mother as if she no longer deserved the title after doubting him.

"Alright, no need to get your wand in a knot, James Charlus Potter," Dorea calmed, rubbing his head affectionately. "However I'm afraid Hermione chose a very precise spell that can only be healed by true love's kiss. There's nothing I can do," she informed him, sharing a wicked grin with Hermione.

"WHAT!" Both James and Sirius yelled in disbelief. "True love spells actually exist?" Sirius added to himself, scowling at the petite brunette.

Deciding there was nothing for it, Sirius said his goodbyes, promised to come to James' house during the summer and went to face his mother's wrath. He never noticed Mrs Potter discreetly waving her wand behind her back to free him from the spell. Even if she was willing to let her son suffer a little for something he clearly deserved, she wasn't about to let Sirius face his family's rage for such a reason. Turning her attention back to the two Delacours before her she shared a secret smile with Hermione and rested a perfectly polished hand on Guillaume's shoulder.

"It was lovely having you over for dinner during the year, perhaps now we could have both you and Hermione over at least once during the summer? Maybe when Sirius is over? Would you like that Hermione?"

Before Hermione could politely say that, she'd rather not have to see either boy this summer, much less both at the same time, James made it clear to his mother that he'd rather not see her at all.

"Well it's not your decision to make. They are family friends James and if you can't be polite then you'll be sent to your room when Hermione and Guillaume come over," Charlus told his son, a firm tone in his voice stating that he would accept no nonsense anymore.

Shaking her head at her son, Dorea smiled at Hermione. "So we'll meet up on the second Monday of the holidays in Diagon Alley Hermione, like we agreed?" Hermione nodded. "Perfect, I'll send you an owl for the specifics."

* * *

Hermione had just finished her shopping day with Dorea Potter and had just met up with Guillaume to head home when she realized that she should check something out before leaving.

"No time like the present after all," she spoke to herself.

Guillaume followed her, knowing that despite accepting to be his little sister, she had an agenda of her own. One even Dumbledore wasn't aware of. The day had started off relatively sunny but as the end of the afternoon approached, the clouds had spread and it was now drizzling steadily. Guillaume warned off a dirty old man who tried to touch Hermione with a dark glare and took one step closer to her warily. The homeless looking wizard deviated from his intended path and disappeared down a small alley between two buildings. Despite having grown up in Paris, he had heard of this particular Alley many times. Knockturn Alley was quite well known, as were all Dark places actually. Guillaume was far from being a snob but he had never even considered the possibility of coming to such a place. However, when Hermione had strolled up to him and told him that she needed to go to a certain store in this very alley, Guillaume had been driven by a morbid sense of curiosity to come down here with her. Well, that and the fact that as any responsable adult knew, he couldn't let Hermione come here on her own. Guillaume glanced at the unmetionable people walking around and decided that a responsable adult would not accompany an eleven year old to Knockturn Alley, they would simply forbid the child from going at all. But Guillaume knew better than to expect Hermione to listen to anything he said. If she wanted to come here, she would go with or without his permission and, as he watched a man urinate in a corner, he was glad it was while he was by her side.

"Shall we go in?" Guillaume said, gesturing toward the muddy door.

Hermione nodded, tilting her head and umbrella to look at the sign hanging above the door, on which you could only just make out the words _Borgin and Burkes_. Sighing, she stepped forward, closing her black umbrella and pushing open the door with her shoulder. Guillaume was close behind her, shaking his head to rid his hair of a few stray raindrops. They found themselves inside a large, dimly lit wizard's shop with a glass case on their left containing two withered hands on a cushion. On a wooden desk on his right there was a pack of blood-stained cards and Guillaume had to wonder what possible magical qualities they could have. The pair moved forward some more, reaching a counter behind which a short, unkept man stood, muttering to himself. Guillaume stood behind Hermione, uncomfortably shifting under the intense glares sent his way from a jar filled with staring glass eyes, until he couldn't take it any longer and threw a random cloth over them.

"Hello! Are you in charge?" Hermione asked the man.

"Little witch, witch," was all he said, turning away from them and stumbling through a back door.

"Alright..." Hermione murmured staring after the man. "We should split up to find the Cabinet."

Sighing, Guillaume nodded. "Very well."

Guillaume wandered about the aisles, not really looking at his surroundings in detail. As he passed by a fireplace, a bony hand caught his attention but when he reached out to pick it up, his elbow bumped into a large black orb. Guillaume winced as he watched it fall and shut his eyes as he waited for the inevitable crash. Instead all he heard was a heavy thud as it bounced twice on the wooden floor before rolling away. He quickly caught it before it rolled too far away and hugged it to his chest as if afraid it would try to escape his hold. Deciding it would be best if he didn't touch anything else, Guillaume continued his perusal until he finally met up with Hermione at the center of the store.

"Have you found anything?" She questioned.

Guillaume shook his head negatively and waited patiently as she thought, biting her lower lip. "It mustn't have been sold to the store yet."

He didn't bother to question her about the way she formulated the statement. She had a habit of saying things that, he was learning, were best to ignore. The last time he had brought up her odd phrasing she had blushed, spluttered around a bit before saying that she hadn't even known she was doing anything perculiar. He didn't believe her but he also knew better than to push her. He suspected that, though she was firmly against the notion, she was somewhat of a Seer. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. He was pretty certain that Hermione, who would glare at anyone who mentioned Divination and who would scoff at the very idea of Seeing, had quite the talent. He would never tell her however, lest he be burnt to a crisp by her wand.

"Anything caught your fancy?" A croaky voice inquired.

The pair spun around in surprise, Guillaume almost dropping the orb in his arms. "No, but perhaps you could help us. We're searching for a certain article that I was almost certain you would sell, but we can't seem to find it in your store."

The man rubbed his beard, eyeing Hermione with an odd twinkle in his gaze. "If it's an object of much value, I may have it in my backroom."

Hermione brightened at the thought. "Of course! Do you happen to have a Vanishing Cabinet back there?"

"Vanishing Cabinet?" The man repeated, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why, those were all destroyed decades ago," he told her, making Hermione frown. "However, if there were to be one left, you've come to the right place to find it. Unfourtunately, at this time, I do not have one."

"Just as I thought, it's not here yet," Hermione said, her voice low. "Would there be any way for you to put it aside for me if you ever end up with it in your possession."

The man leaned forward on the counter and after a quick glance at Guillaume, looked Hermione over carefully. "Tell me... You seem awfully certain that one day I will have a Cabinet to offer you..." He observed carefully.

Hermione shrugged with a smile. "Call it... Intuition," she spoke, pausing just like he had when speaking.

An amused glint passed through his gaze and he chuckled, nodding his head. "Very well. Let us say that I do, one day, come to have a Vanishing Cabinet, what would I gain from putting it aside for you? What do you have to offer?"

"Double the price and a Fire Chalice," Guillaume interrupted, his voice cold and firm.

Greed filled the man's eyes as a toothless grin spread across his face. "You have yourselves a deal," he agreed.

"Perfect. Send a letter addressed to Granger, any owl should be able to find one of us with that, the very moment you get a Vanishing Cabinet. Sell it to no one else. Give it either to me or my brother."

"I look forward to contacting you," the man said, reaching a hand to shake their hands.

Hermione shook his quickly as she pulled out her umbrella. The clerk glanced at Guillaume, twisting his lips when he noticed what the man was holding. "Are you going to buy that?"

Shocked Guillaume snapped his head downwards to stare at the glass ball he was cuddling, having forgotten about it. "Um no... Forgive me."

He hurried to place it awkwardly on the desk, patting the ball to make sure it didn't move and with that the pair were quick to depart. As they reached the apparition point, Hermione checked no one had noticed them leaving Knockturn Alley. The street was empty due to the weather. No one would ever know. Hermione was glad to know that even if she couldn't change the future, at least she wouldn't make Voldemort's life easy. No, for as long as she lived, she would do whatever she could to slow him down. For now she couldn't do much, not with her eleven year old body but she could still attempt to complicate things for Voldemort. If she couldn't stop him, at least she could use her second chance for good. Even if she would have to pay the price sooner or later. After all she knew better than anyone: Nothing good ever happens to those who meddle with time.

* * *

Hermione observed Guillaume closely as he pulled the letter out of the owl's beak and read the letter, rubbing the back of his neck in the process.

"Don't even bother Guillaume. You're going."

"What are you talking about?"

"The letter you just received from Apolline."

"How did you know it was from her?" He inquired.

"Please, I can smell the lingering perfume on it from here," she scoffed as if offended he even had to ask.

"I have things to do today..." He attempted to say.

"No, you don't," Hermione shut her book and stood up from the kitchen table she was sitting at. "I know you want to go. I also know that if you stay you'll regret it. You'll only be staying because of me. I'll be fine on my own," she assured him, scratching the owl who hooted happily at her attention.

"I'm not sure..."

"I'll go to Aberforth's if it makes you feel better. I have things I need to do with him anyway," she offered.

Grinning, Guillaume nodded, realizing he was fighting a loosing battle. He'd be going on a date with Apolline De Chaillé, whether he liked it or not. Which he did. Hermione knew a lot of things. She knew who would die. Who would live. She knew who dated who. Who was a traitor. She knew a lot. She also knew that if she kept going the way she was going now, a lot was going to change. Somethings, she wanted to change. Others, not. This was one of the things she was hoping to avoid changing. Guillaume would marry Apolline, she would make sure of that, even if it meant cutting herself out of his life. After all, she didn't really belong in his life to begin with, she didn't belong in anyone's life in this time period. So if she had to cut herself out of their lives for them to be happy, then she would do it without a moment's hesitation. Starting now. Guillaume was meant to end up with Apolline, he was meant to have two beautiful Delacour daughters and if she in anyway jeopardized that from happening, she would disappear. Guillaume would get over it, they all would, seeing as she didn't technically exist, having not been born yet. And no one could miss something that didn't exist.

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too Aberforth," Hermione greeted, jumping onto one of his dirty bar stools. "I'll have a firewhiskey, please."

"Like hell, you will," he muttered. "Pumpkin juice it is for you," he stated, slamming a glass of it in front of her on the bar.

"Oh come on! You know how old I actually am! I'm turning nineteen soon you know!" She whined, taking a sip from the glass.

"I don't give a damn how old you are, as long as you look eleven, I'm giving you shite. Once you're _physically_ turning sixteen, then maybe we can talk about a change of beverage."

"And here I thought you were the fun Dumbledore brother," she murmured, much too amused for the man's taste.

"I can still kick you out, Hermione," he threatened.

Hermione knew that it was an empty threat. It didn't matter how gruff he appeared on the outside, she wasn't intimidated by his cold-hearted attitude, she knew that he would never be able to throw out an eleven-year-old in the street.

"You never answered my question, what are you doing here?"

She shrugged, gulping down a bit more of her drink. "Guillaume had a hot date today," she explained, licking her lips for any spare drops of juice. "He didn't feel comfortable leaving me home alone. So I bargained with him, I'd stay here with you all day and night while he went on his date."

"How is that in any way a bargain for you?" Aberforth snorted, pulling out a knew glass to wipe clean.

"I get to spend time with you of course!" Hermione claimed, cheerfully.

"You'll be disappointed," he assured her.

"I don't think so," Hermione disagreed, with a firm shake of her head, eyes alive with energy. She pushed off the counter and used her momentum to spin around in a circle with her stool. "How come this place is so empty?" She wondered aloud.

"I'm closed today, good thing too. Reputation of this place would take a hit if anyone saw you at my counter."

"I didn't see a sign," she observed, choosing to ignore his last comment.

"My clients are aware, they don't need a sign."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and drank from her glass once again, draining it's contents. Before she knew it a new juice glass was set before her and she smiled gratefully. It was an uncommonly hot day today and his juice was surprisingly cold, a perfect refreshment. The pair no longer spoke, the silence between them not awkward but not wholly comfortable. Gradually as the time passed, Hermione found herself practically lying on his counter, waving her arms in the air, with a lazy smile on her face.

"Are you sure that what you gave me was just juice?" She asked him, finishing the latest cup he had given her.

Every time she would finish one, he would place a new one in her hand, as if he thought that would keep her quiet, like a candy would a child and although she remained silent, he knew it wasn't because of the juice.

"Yes, I'm certain. This bar may be unkept but I'd never serve alcohol to a child."

"Well then it must be the residue in your cups, they aren't very clean after all," she stated, eyeing one of his cups in disgust.

"My cups are fine," he growled.

"I don't think so!" She exclaimed, reaching between him and the counter and pulling out a recently 'cleaned' cup he had placed on the shelf. "Just look at this grime! And these water lines! Clean? I don't think so," she informed him, her tone almost sad.

"Like you could do any better," he challenged, not very pleased with her criticizing his cleaning talents.

"I assure you I could!" Hermione proclaimed, snatching the cup from his hand.

Soon the both of them were scrubbing away at Aberforth's cups, Hermione quickly working up a sweat. "This grime is as hard as stone!" She told him.

"I'm aware," he said dryly.

Wiping away a few drops of sweat on her forehead, Hermione jumped off the counter. "I need the bathroom, excuse me."

"Head down the stairs, into the basement. The bathroom is to the left of my living room."

"Why don't I just use the bar restrooms?"

"Believe me, you don't want to."

Giggling, Hermione went where he told her and as she was about to go upstairs decided to take a break on his couch. Taking a quick look at the clock on his wall she could see that she had spent a good four hours cleaning cups with Aberforth. She was surprised to find that the time passed so quickly while cleaning glasses. Hermione could feel her lids drooping and on a whim decided to research a spell before falling asleep. She pulled out her wand and summoned the book she knew she needed, quickly flicking through it in search of a very specific spell. Once she found it, she beamed, ripping out a page from his daily profit and scribbling a quick note to Aberforth before lying back onto the couch and falling asleep.

An hour later, Aberforth wandered downstairs, curious as to why Hermione was taking so long in the toilet. Perhaps she was having problems? Unwilling to admit he was worried, he headed down under the pretext of wanting to reprimand her for taking too long. He paused, a soft smile spreading across his face when he noticed her splayed over the couch, her small frame fitting into it perfectly. Shaking his head affectionately, he walked into his bedroom and took out a cover from his cupboard. Entering his living room as quietly as possible, he placed the blanket over the girl, tucking her inside it securely. Though it had been a horrbily hot day, his basement grew cold at night and he noticed the goosebumps spread over her exposed legs. Turning away to turn off the lights, he stopped when he remarked an open book on his small table, a scribbled note resting on it, addressed to him.

 _Aberforth. Thought this might help your dirty glass problem._

He chuckled, chrunching up the note and reading over the spell. Shaking his head, he went into his room and threw the note in the bin. "There is no dirty cup problem," he spoke to himself. "No one's ever complained thus far."

* * *

Aberforth was awoken in the middle of the night by terrified screams that froze him to the bone. For a moment, he struggled to figure out where they were coming from until he remembered the young girl sleeping on his sofa. Throwing his blanket off he ran out of his bedroom and fell to his knees by the thrashing girl's side. Her hair was sticking to her face, tears escaping her eyes as she squeezed them shut, as if trying to make the images playing in her mind disappear.

"Hermione," he spoke softly, brushing aside her hair and pressing a careful hand on her forehead.

Her hands fought to push him away, but he easily caught them, gently pulling them away from his face. Her clothes were in disarray, her sleeves rolled up her arms and Aberforth felt furious rage build inside him at the sight of the crude word carved on her arm. He repeated her name over and over again, in a voice as calm and relaxed as he could manage until finally her eyes snapped open. They were wild and unfocused, letting him know that despite being awake she was not yet conscious of her surroundings, still lost in her nightmare. On impulse he gathered her in his arms, hugging her to his chest and resting her in his lap. She curled up in a little ball and when her mind calmed, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly.

"I thought they would be gone by now," she sobbed.

"Your nightmares?" Aberforth checked.

He felt her nod. "Isn't it pitiful that after a year, I still have nightmares?" She laughed scornfully.

Aberforth disagreed. "You went through a war Hermione. You saw your friends die, you were tortured. You've been through things people your age should never have to go through, be you eleven or nineteen. In all honesty, I think that the fact that you're only having nightmares and no other side effects is pretty impressive. It shows how strong you are."

"How do you figure?" Hermione questioned, pushing away his beard that was scratching against her cheek.

"The fact that you're still living and fighting for a life shows how far you're willing to go. Many would have already given up," he murmured, caressing her hair in a soothing manner as his chin rested atop her head.

Hermione let out a shakey breath and turned her face upwards to meet his gaze. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" She asked him shyly.

"I suppose, but don't tell anyone," he warned, causing the witch to giggle.

"There's nothing wrong with it," she shrugged. "Guillaume's my brother here, you could be my father," Hermione teased him, tucking her hands under one of his pillows, the cover pulled up to her chin.

"Believe me, kid, I'm not cut out to be anyone's father," he grunted, turning away from the small girl sharing his bed.

* * *

"Guillaume sent me a letter. We're going to dine at the Potter's home tonight," Hermione stated as she rubbed the counter top of the Hog's Head bar with a wet rag.

"And you're telling me why?"

"I was hoping you could take me, I can't apparate on my own and I don't know how to get to their place."

"Fine," he responded, slamming down what seemed to be raw meat onto the counter Hermione had just finished cleaning.

"I just cleaned that," she reprimanded him, eyeing the meat with distaste.

She had no idea what he was doing with it and she had to admit she had not dared ask for fear of the answer. "I'll clean it again later. Shall we go?"

"Aren't you going to get ready?" She questioned, surprised.

"What's wrong with how I am now?" He demanded.

Hermione allowed her gaze to rake over him and settled on a shrug. "Nothing, I guess," she sighed tiredly.

She had decided that telling him his clothes were rotting was inappropriate. And mentioning the rat's nest at the back of his head was perhaps a little rude. Maybe she could have pointed out the beer stain on his beard. However, Hermione judged that he was already in a foul enough mood as it was. With a wave of his wand his bar was secure and holding an arm out to Hermione, the two rapidly disappeared. The pair arrived in front of what some would call a small mansion with a large garden. Hermione walked up to the impressive gate and pulled the black string dangling from one of the bars. Not long after, the front door of the house opened and Dorea Potter hurried outside, coming to open the gate.

"Perfect timing! Guillaume arrived a few minutes earlier," she huffed, pulling open the gate. "Aberforth! What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in."

She ushered the two inside, shutting the door behind them. "Are you staying for dinner Aberforth? You're more than welcome."

None noticed the black-haired boy stop on the staircase, glaring at the brunette girl he despised. He remained on the top steps, hoping to avoid talking with the girl until absolutely necessary.

"That's very nice of you Mrs. Potter, but I won't tally much longer," he refused.

"How many times have I told you to call me Dorea. Although that is a shame since it has been a while since we last had you over, I understand. Next time perhaps."

"I would appreciate a word with Guillaume and Hermione before I go," he interjected before she could go on.

"Of course, I'll fetch him for you, shall I?" With that, the older lady left the room.

Hermione shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "Why do you want to speak with Guillaume?" She hissed, turning to scowl at the old man.

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at her. "I think you know why."

"No! You have no right Aberforth! I forbid it! It's not for you to tell him!" She whisper-yelled at him.

"It may not be but we both know Guillaume will never know what's happening if I don't tell him!"

"What won't I ever know if you don't tell me, Abe?" Guillaume inquired, looking over his sister who looked clearly exhausted.

"Have you ever heard her at night, Guillaume?" Aberforth demanded.

Guillaume frowned, shoving away from the wall. "No, our house is as silent as ever at night. Why?"

"She has nightmares," Aberforth declared, not wasting a second.

Guillaume knelt in front of Hermione in order to be at equal height with her. "Why have you been hiding it from me?" He wondered, trying to meet her gaze.

"You've done so much for me already. You don't need to deal with my messed up mind."

"Hermione, when I agreed to take you in, I was agreeing to all the ups and downs. I was taking you in, messed up mind and all. I want to help you. I can't do that if you're hiding from me."

"That's the exact reason I didn't want you to find out. You want to help me and you've done a wonderful job at doing just that. My nightmares, however, they're not just dreams. They're memories and there's nothing you can do about them."

"I can try."

"You'll get fed up with helping me in the end when you want to start your own life," she murmured.

"You're my sister Hermione. I will never stop helping you," he breathed, pulling her into a hug. After a moment he pulled away and stood to face Aberforth.

"Thank you for telling me this," he said gratefully.

"I had no choice. I'll be contacting Albus, against my better judgment, he can get you the help you need," he stepped away from the siblings, opening the door. "We'll be in touch. Good evening."

James who had been crouched on the stairs had only heard snippets of their discussion due to their low voices but had managed to make out the main drift of the conversation. Hermione was having issues and Guillaume hadn't been aware before and now, that Aberforth man was going to inform Albus. James only knew of one Albus. Albus Dumbledore. Though he hadn't heard everything, he knew that if Albus Dumbledore was involved it had to be serious. He didn't exactly know what was wrong with Hermione Delacour but it had to be big. Not that that changed anything. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he hurried down the stairs and entered the dining room where dinner was being served. Hermione and James remained civil throughout the meal, afraid of Dorea Potter's reaction to any outright animosity. Once the meal was finished, Charlus made the two children flee against their will into the garden to play together. As soon as they were outside, Hermione walked over to a swing set that was concealed behind a cover of weeping willows. James followed her silently and leaned against a tree as he watched her start to swing back and forth.

"I can't figure you out," he told her, hands stuffed deep into his jean pockets.

"You're eleven years old. You can't figure everything out," she replied calmly, closing her eyes and tilting her head to the darkening sky. "Somethings aren't meant to be figured out."

"I realize that," he spat, throwing her a nasty look. "But something about you doesn't sit well with me. You make me uneasy."

"I apologize," she said regretfully. "I don't mean to."

"And that's why I don't like you," he told her.

Hermione opened her eyes but didn't look at him. "You don't like me because I'm sorry about making you uncomfortable?" She asked, confused.

"No, I don't like you because you make me uneasy but you still act like a perfect little daughter. Daddy's little girl."

"I don't have a daddy," she stated calmly.

He winced, regretting his words. He disliked her that was a certainty, but even he knew the limits, having crossed over them once, he didn't plan on doing it again. "Sorry."

"Oh it's quite alright," she assured him peacefully. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? The perfect little daughter act you detest so much?" She giggled to herself as if she found it amusing.

James didn't get the joke so she continued on. "You're right, in a way. It is an act. I am the farthest thing there is from a perfect little daughter. If you want to hate someone for that, look towards Pandora. I'm, in fact, the worst daughter there is."

"Guillaume seems to disagree. He's your brother, sure but he acts like your father and he adores you."

"That's because he doesn't know the truth. If he knew that I was the reason my parents died, he wouldn't be so forgiving."

"What do you mean you're the reason?" Not picking up on the fact that she said, 'my parents' and not 'our parents'.

"I hate you. Why would I tell you? Come to think of it, I'm wondering why I've told you anything at all," she muttered.

"And why do I care?" James asked himself, causing Hermione to look at him.

Shocked by his proximity to her as she swayed on her swing she slammed her feet down onto the muddy ground to stop her movements, causing a glob of mud to fly into the air and land straight on James' pants. He stared down at his front, having ripped his hands out of his pockets in shock.

"I can't believe you just did that!" He yelled.

"It-it was an accident!" She claimed.

"I'll show you an accident!" He growled, ducking down, gathering a hand full of mud and throwing it at her.

Hermione squealed in surprise, turning her face away in order to avoid a mouthful of mud. "You did that on purpose!" She accused.

"Revenge!" James justified himself.

"You jerk!" Hermione screamed, falling to the ground, creating a ball of mud and stuffing it in his face.

And so started the epic Mud Battle of Potter Manor of Summer 1972. This battle would be remembered as an amusing encounter much later when the pair would one day become friends, for now, however, it was a true and honest eleven year old war. The two let out their dislike for the other through numerous mud balls, war cries and insults, hoping to prove to the other that they hated the other more. When Dorea leaned outside to call the two young Hogwart students inside, she was horrified by their state.

"Unbelievable," she scolded them. "You two are soon to be second-year students! You should be much more mature than this."

The two silently took their scolding, not even trying to turn the blame on the other. It was far from a declaration of friendship but it was a step in the right direction Hermione supposed.

"This changes nothing Delacour, I still hate you."

"The feeling's mutual," she said back. Perhaps she had thought too soon.

 **A/N: As always please tell me what you think! I appreciate it! I don't know how long their second year will be. Not too long normally but I can't be sure because there is going to be an enormous discovery on Hermione's part during her school year and that's going to take up about two or three chapters and then there needs to be the build up and hints so... We'll see... Do any of you have any idea what the discovery will be? Hint/Spoiler: It will have to do with the Chamber of Secrets.**

 **Indeed, Second year is going to be big for Hermione and though she won't figure everything out, I am confident that you, my smart readers, will manage to make the link to Merlin that Hermione will miss! Wish Hermione luck, she's going to need it!**

 **Once again: Sorry for spelling and typos. They happen to the best of us and no matter how many times I re-read, I can't seem to spot them. At least not until I post it and then re-read on my phone to find them. If there any that really bother you, tell me! They'll be fixed as soon as possible.**


	10. Chapter 10: Lovegood's magical creatures

**A/N: New chapter! Someone pointed out that Hermione buying the cabinet wasn't a big deal in the long run. Yes. I completely agree. And so does Hermione, but seeing as she's eleven there's not much she can do. And Hermione being Hermione, she can't just sit back and do nothing, she has to feel even a smidge useful.**

 **I ask for forgiveness for this long overdue chapter, but for so many reasons (which I listed to one of you) I was just overwhelmed with life. Please thank lizziecats for motivating me to post as quickly as possible once I had free time (though I was going to post either way, it might not have been for a little while longer without her PM).**

 **PS There may be a few inaccuracies regarding Sirius and Regulus' fall out and relationship but... Well it's all to fit into my plot, so please overlook them.**

When Hermione arrived at Hogwarts on the first of September, she glanced up at the building, shadowed by the setting sun and frowned. Not because she was seeing anything unusual. It was more of a feeling she had in her gut. One she couldn't understand. It was heavy and rather uncomfortable, but figuring it was just due to the long trip she shook her head and shifted her bag on her shoulder and followed the other students to the Hogwarts carriages. Adrian had already climbed into one and was waiting for her to arrive, saving her a seat next to him. Hermione smiled at him, throwing a quick glance at the Thestrals, usually calm creatures. Unused to being seen however, the Thestral closest to her jumped excitedly at her very brief attention. Not wanting to attract attention to herself, Hermione tried to make it seem like she couldn't see it, feeling horrible when the creature let out a pityful whine, trying to regain her attention. It was like the Thestral could feel that Hermione could see him but she still refused to look at it again despite its complaints. The other students on the carriage shivered at the sound that travelled through the air but no one mentioned it, feeling a slight bit too creeped out to bring more thought to it.

Hermione sat in the carriage, spending the brief ride up to the school being jostled and chatting with the others, eager to get to sleep. They finally reached the school, Hermione and Adrian walking inside side by side and sitting down beside Pandora and Amelia, another second year Ravenclaw. The four second year students talked amongst themselves about their summer holidays until the first year students entered the hall. Hermione's gaze immediately landed on the yongest Black sibling. Said boy glanced hesitatingly at his older brother who nodded encouragingly. Hermione was surprised to see this small show of affection coming from the pair, but then she suspected it was only normal. She remembered Sirius telling her about the moment things had changed for the pair.

* * *

 _Hermione was alone at Grimmauld Place, with only a disappearing Sirius as company. The Weaselys had gone back to the Burrow for the afternoon in order for them to all gather some of their things and Harry of course had decided to accompany them. Hermione had declined the invitation, prefering to stay here with Sirius and read some of the books in the Black Library. Hermione heard the ceiling creak above her and knew it was probably Sirius but still found herself standing and heading towards the staircase to check._

 _Hermione paused in front of an open door and observed_ _Sirius who was currently sitting against a wall inside a room that had previously never been opened. She shifted, pulling at her sleeve while she tried to decide if she should enter. A half empty bottle of firewhiskey was dangling from his left hand, his arms resting on his spread open knees and his head hanging between his shoulders. The wall he was leaning on was in terrible shape, the wall paper partly ripped off in a number of areas and some of it left hanging piteously. The floor was missing less than half of it's wooden planks and of the remaining ones, some were stained in various shades of red and green._

 _Sighing Sirius banged his head against the wall, his eyes still shut, causing Hermione to jump in surprise at the loud, unexpected noise. She looked at his face closely and if his actions didn't give it away, his expression clearly revealed something was wrong._

 _"This was my brother's room," Hermione didn't react to his words but_ _took the fact that he was addressing her as an invitation to enter and took a few careful steps inside, slowly lowering herself to the floor, not far from him. "He's dead, you know? Was a Death Eater. Got killed by his master. Probably."_

 _"What was he like?"_

 _"The best little brother ever. Until third year. Though I suppose I should have seen it coming. He grew more and more distant as the years passed."_

 _"Why did you let it happen?" Hermione wondered._

 _"Because I thought it was what he wanted. I still think it was what he wanted. He was proud. And I was a coward. And blind. Stupid."_

 _Shaking her head Hermione stood up to leave the room, pausing only to say a few more words to him. "I don't think that's true."_

* * *

Hermione quickly shook her head and decided to try to stay out of all _that_. She was certain meddling with the Black brother family issues would only bring her trouble. Her attention turned towards the Headmaster as he stood to make his speech though she almost wished she hadn't when she heard the subject he was explaining and she felt herself lose her appetite, her face paling a fraction, though no one noticed.

"And last but not least, just like every year, the Dueling Club will be starting in two weeks time, obligatory for all second years and up. Dueling Club schedules shall be displayed on the billboards in your common rooms. Keep your eyes open for those. Thank you for your patience! Bon appétit! And just to spice up your table discussions this fine evening: Nargles, Gulping Plimpys and Heliopaths."

"My father is out looking for Heliopaths this year, did I tell you?" Pandora told the pair sitting opposit her eagerly as soon as they had each served themselves a portion of food.

Hermione smiled at her friend. "No I don't think you have... Why is he looking for... He-Heliopaths?" She inquired, hesitant to encourage Dora in her belief of this mythical creature.

"Well, he is! He's trying to take some of their fire!"

"Heliopaths don't exist," Adrian interrupted, taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

"Of course they do!" Pandora claimed.

"I've heard that a Heliopath's fire is inextinguishable and could last for eternity," Hermione said, curiously, shrugging when Adrian shot her a surprised glance.

"Why are you encouraging her?" He wanted to know.

"Oh it is! Which is why- I mean- could you imagine having access to an immortal flame?" Dora exclaimed, stumbling over her words in her excitement, ignoring the curly haired boy.

"That would indeed be quite something... And it would also be undeniably useful," Hermione replied, practically lost in a daydream of what she would do with such a thing.

"You must be joking!" He exclaimed in a huff. "Heliopaths aren't real!"

Amused by his obvious frustration Hermione decided to tease him a little longer. "Well... How do you know?" She questioned, innocently.

"There's no proof that they exist!" Adrian almost yelled.

"So? There is no proof to the existence of Nargles and we all know they exist," Pandora pointed out, serenely.

"Actually," Hermione spoke thoughtfully as she thought back to her sixth year when Luna Lovegood had managed to find Harry with the help of Nargles. "I think there **_is_** proof those exist."

"Hermione! Heliopaths are one of the most idiotic imaginary creatures around. Please tell me you know this?" He begged.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear that you were discussing Heliopaths and I thought I might join in?"

A tall long blond haired boy inquired as he shuffled over to the trio. "Oh it's Xenophilius, what luck!" Adrian deadpanned, knowing this would only make sure the conversation lasted longer.

"My friends seem to find Heliopaths a ridiculous topic... I don't see why, they're usually more than open to discussing such mythical creatures."

"Yes well, I suppose even your band of friends has their limits to what they judge to be silliness and imagination," Hermione replied, pleasantly.

Xenoliphilus smiled at her, filling the plate that had magically appeared before him when he changed seats. "Do you know that, supposedly, if you were to burn Molly with Heliopath Fire, you could get eternal purple fire?" He inquired.

"Really? Fascinating!" Pandora exclaimed.

"Purple fire, you say? What would be the use?" Hermione wondered, curious.

"Well it'd be pretty wouldn't it? But there'd be nothing more, as far as we know," Lovegood said, sagely.

"As far as we know?!" Adrian repeated, sounding exasperated. "As far as you know is equivalent to nothing!"

"True," Pandora giggled. "For now."

Hermione chuckled, knowing that a few years ago, before she had gotten to know Luna well, she would have been like Adrian, horrified by the turn of the conversation, but having learnt that some of Luna's 'imaginary' creatures could be more than useful, she decided not to judge until the Lovegoods, and future Lovegoods and all those similar to the Lovegoods, were proven wrong, with substantial proof.

"I've heard of your father's work Pandora," Xeno informed her. "My family is quite interested with his research and if his current endeavours are fruitful, we'll know so much more about Heliopaths."

Adrian groaned and slammed his head against the table as the two girls and the older boy launched into a discussion about Heliopaths and where to find them. Hermione smiled cheekily at him when he rolled his head to the side and peeked at her through his bangs. He glared at her and in the hopes of calming his slowly growing anger, Hermione raised her hand and stared raking her nails through the small hairs at the base of his neck. She knew it had a calming effect on him and he never protested because he knew she needed the physical reassurance that he was still there. He was growing incredibly curious as to why she needed it so much. He desperately wanted to know why she was the way she was. He also knew that the reason she hadn't told him wasn't because she didn't trust him... But because she simply wasn't ready. His uncle had been much the same. It had taken his squib uncle close to five years before he was ready to talk about what he had been through. Shaking his head Adrian sat up straight and decided to join the conversation, even if he found it utterly ludicrious.

* * *

The first week of class had gone by smoothly, teachers were flooding their students with start of the year assignments, but Hermione, having done them before and having an excellent memory, could pretty much rewrite the same thing she had written in her original timeline without opening a single school book. Which is not to say that she didn't, oh no, she opened just as many school books as the first time around, but she was especially careful to make just enough mistakes to be graded under Lily and Remus. Even if she could live her life like if she had never lived another, she still knew that they deserved what they got in school.

It was as Hermione was calmly walking back to the Ravenclaw tower on Sunday evening that she was caught by Adrian. "Hermione!" He called, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what?" She asked, amused by his enthusiasm.

"The Dueling Club timetables have apparently been hung up in the Common Rooms! I was just on my way to verify if it was true."

Hermione stumbled in her stride at his words and cursed under her breath. "I bloody well forgot about that!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, just mumbling to myself," she shrugged. "Shall we go see when we have the Club?"

As Hermione stood before the board, unbelieving of her bad luck, Hermione promised to go see Dumbledore as soon as possible because of course, she had her first Dueling Club tomorrow, at _lunch_. All the fifth to seventh years had their Dueling Club in the afternoons after class, while the second to fourth years had it during their lunch periods. And while all her classmates were conversing about it eagerly and excitedly, Hermione chewed her bottom lip, trying to figure out when the best time to interpel Dumbledore would be.

The first and only opportunity for Hermione to do so was just before the start of the Dueling Club. Hermione interrupted him just as he was leaving the empty Great Hall with Professor McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore, if I might have a word?"

"Of course, my dear, come along. Excuse me, Minerva," he said, walking away with Hermione. "What seems to be the problem? You appear troubled."

"I am. The Dueling Club starts today," she paused amd glanced at her watch. "Right _now_ actually."

"Indeed it is, I am aware of this Miss Delacour," Dumbeldore spoke, calmly.

"Well, the thing is Professor, I can't participate in it Sir," she told him.

"Why of course you can, you must be a very experienced dueller," he said, leaving unsaid, but mutually undestood, the reason for her competence in that domain.

"But I don't want too, I know far too much and I won't be able to hold back, even during a practice duel," Hermione argued.

"I understand that your circumstances here are of an unusal variety, but that does not permit you to favoritism."

"It's not favoritism, Sir, it's smart thiniking. If I duel I will draw attention to myself."

"If you do not duel, you will draw attention to yourself," Dumbledore countered.

"Yes, but it will be the type of attention I can handle. People won't be wondering how I came to be such a good dueller, how I learnt such a dangerous spell, how I knew how to perform such and such curse..."

"You make a fair point, Miss Delacour," he studied her for a few drawn out moments, his eyes twinkling. "Very well, it seems you won't budge on this decision, so I will cave, but I must insist you still attend the Dueling Club, at the very least for the theoretical aspects of the Club."

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded.

"I hope you are prepared for six years of sitting and watching your classmates duelling, you might be surprised by how boring it will become," he teased, stearing her down a corridor.

"I'm sure I'll find some way to pass the time."

"Here we are," he motioned her inside a busy classroom. "After you."

Few students spared the pair a glance when they entered the classroom as they were busy practising their first dueling spell. Albus waved over the professor.

"Albus," the man greeted with a nod.

"Heinrick," Dumbledore responded. "This here is your last second year student, Hermione Delacour."

"Pleasure," Heinrick smiled kindly, eyeing the young girl who had entered with the Headmaster curiously.

"I ask that you allow Miss Delacour to sit out on all your classes. She is not to particiapte in any practical parts of the Duel Club, just watch and work."

"May I ask as to why?" He wondered, now even more curious.

"Her circumstances for coming to Hogwarts as a student were quite particular and due to this, I believe it is unecessary to put her under any additional stress."

"Additional stress?" Heinrick repeated, almost disbelieving. "Come now Albus, this is a second year dueling club not Aurors training! If they were fifth years I might have understood but the most dangerous spell that will be used this year will most likely be the Jelly-Leg hex."

"I realize that Heinrick, but the mind works in mysterious ways. Miss Delacour has gone through things, done and seen things no one her age, or any one for that matter, no matter the age, should ever have to go through."

Heinrick glanced at Hermione worried, his eyes widening when Dumbledore leaned forwards and murmured something in his ear, his gaze on Hermione softening as the Headmaster left. Heinrick summoned a chair and desk in the corner of the room and invited her to ask questions and participate orally if she wished to. Hermione sighed in relief, glad she had avoided what she was sure could have been a catastrophy. She ducked her head, avoiding the looks she was receiving, mostly from an understanding Adrian, the annoyed and far too curious Marauders and the pitying Professor.

* * *

On Hermione's Thursday Transfiguration class during her third week back, she dropped down gracefully into her usual seat beside Adrian, and fell backwards into a much less graceful slouch, huffing air out through her pursed lips to move the hair out of her eyes. Amused Adrian shifted in his seat to observe her.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" He teased.

"Slytherins. They don't usually pay much attention to me but seems today was my lucky day!" Hermione almost growled.

"They're like that to everyone, it was bound to fall on you some day or another. Just be happy it's over now," he shrugged, straightening up when the Professor McGonagall entered the class, along with another professor.

"Today, Transfiguration is cancelled, instead you will have an exceptional course with the Hogwarts Care of Magical Creatures professor, Mrs Rumblehorn."

"Alright class! I've got a treat for you today!" She grinned, waving her wand, causing a cage covered by a black sheet to appear on the desk. "I suspect you've never come across one of these before! Well, for the most part that is," she ammended, glancing at Nicolas Jahquen, who had most of his family in Oman and regularly travelled there to visit with them.

The class mumbled amongst themselves excitedly, wondering what it could be, it had to be quite rare for their usual classes to be cancelled. "This is a creature I'm showing to all years seeing as I highly doubt I'll ever manage to get my hands on one of these beautiful creatures ever again. However, don't be fooled by its hypnotizing appearance, one lick or bite from it and you're as good as dead, unless you can get your hands on Red-Frog Blood in the following ten seconds."

She paused as she tugged on a pair of dragon hide gloves with a small grunt. "You'll all be staying in your seats today, no getting close to the cage... But just in case," the professor muttered pulling out a large vial filled with what was most likely Red-Frog Blood. "We can never be too certain with young folk, especially if some of you should choose to show off," she added, throwing a stern and reproaching glance at the Marauders who widened their eyes in exaggeration, the perfect picture of innocence and surprise.

"Us? Never!" James exclaimed.

"Oh! How you wound us!" Sirius claimed, clutching a hand to his heart.

"Bloody teacher has never taught us before and she already knows who to keep an eye on," Adrian snickered to Hermione behind his hand.

Sighing as if too tired to pay any more attention to the four boys, the professor turned to the cage placing a hand on the sheet and pulling it off with a flourish.

Everyone stared at the large snake curled up in the center of the cage. "Now, listen carefully, because should you ever come across one of these in the wild, which is highly unlikely to happen in Britain, this could save your life: _Veru Mortiferum_ will go right to sleep if you stick it in darkness. While a darkness spell will do the trick, the most efficient way is to cover it with a sheet, cloak or scarf," she explained as the class observed the snake.

Ever so slowly the snake's body tensed as it awoke, carefully opening its eyes and staring at the students with bored purple eyes. Its tongue slipped out quickly as its head moved, taking in its location.

"So I would, for this class, like for you to all observe this creature. Describe its appearance, anything that stands out and that could allow you to recognize it in its true environment. And of course, all the obvious characteristics then, I ask that you read this pamphlet and take notes about information you might find pertinent. Your only optional homework will be to give me a brief summary of what you observed and add a number of uses for this snake's poison in healing and in potions."

With that the teacher nodded to the class and started strolling up and down between the desks, answering any questions thrown her way. Hermione quickly got to work, taking note of the _Veru Mortiferum's_ beautiful scales, intricate designs of dark red and a green so dark it looked almost black. She scribbled down obervations on its bright purple eye colour and its black forked tongue, tilting her head and squinting her eyes in the attempt to find more discreet details about the snake. Her note taking gradually slowed as she realized the snake was staring straight at her. She shook her head. What did it matter after all? Hermione was straight in its line of sight, it could be staring at anyone. But then, it had been staring at her since the first time its gaze had landed on her. And it had even moved around in the cage, which was the exact reason Hermione was in its line of sight as originally it had been turned towards the other side of the classroom. Was it normal for an animal to be so concentrated on one thing for so long? Well, it was a magical creature, Hermione supposed, and those were always quite unpredictable. Still Hermione felt unsettled by its stare but ducked her head to write once she noticed the fact that one of the dark scales on its head was purple, not black.

It was as she was writing that Hermione heard it. That snake had just hissed at her. She paused and glanced up at it quickly, but the snake had not moved. _Honestly_ , she huffed at herself in her head, _you're being ridiculous_. _It didn't hiss at you, it just hissed_. Still, Hermione was sure she had heard-

No, certainly not. She was just extremely tired. However, as soon as she went back to writing she heard it again. The hiss.

 _Hello_.

Hermione froze, closing her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. Surely she was dreaming. Or losing her mind. It wasn't possible, but as her hand once again moved over her parchment, painfully slow as Hermione was lost in her thoughts, the snake hissed a third time. Hermione's grip tightened on her quill, her body taken over with an abrupt shiver. The quill snapped in her grasp and Hermione quickly slapped it onto her desk, not noticing the odd glance Adrian threw her way, her hand curling into a fist. This time it was undeniable. She couldn't ignore it any longer as ever so slowly Hermione raised her head, her gaze met the snake's one. Hermione swore that if snakes had lips with which to smirk, the snake would be doing exactly that at this exact moment as it hissed for a fourth and final time.

 _Hello_.

 **A/N: Please excuse the tupos and spelling mistakes... No matter how many times I reread, I'll see most of them once the chapter is posted, but I'll correct them as soon as I do tomorrow!**

 **So... What do you think of Hermione's decision to skip out on Dueling Club? Any ideas about where Hermione's new little ability come froms?**

 **Spolier: A little Hermione and Regulus interaction inthe next chapter!**

 **Please tell me what you thought and again: I am soooo sorry!**


	11. Chapter 11: Conversations with snakes

**A/N: Hope you enjoy! Sorry guys, I know I took a long time to update again and this time I can't promise I'll be quick with my next one. I'll post it, don't worry about that, but it just make take a while. I don't want you to think I'm making up excuses and I don't think you want the details but things happened and are currently happening at the moment and they're making me feel lost, confused and scared. I won't stop writing because I got advice from the TL site that doing something I love could help me. And I love writing. So I apologize for the slow updates in advance but I will finish this story.**

 **Sorry for typos ans spelling errors. Disclaimer: Come on, we all know who owns what here.**

Hermione was running, she needed to get out, she needed to escape. She couldn't see anything but her own two feet hitting the stone floors as she pushed through a crowded hallway. She couldn't hear anything other than her panting breaths. She needed air, she was suffocating! Finally she simply fell to her knees in an empty corridor and wrapped one arm around her middle, the other raising to her heaving chest. She could vaguely hear someone speaking. Obviously the hall hadn't been as empty as she had thought. Hermione could only shake her head, feeling the tears run down her cheeks. Suddenly, a face appeared in her vision. It appeared to be an older student. He was asking her something, she had no idea what. Everything was turning dark around her, the sides of her vision darkening by the second. Pushing the boy's hands away from her, Hermione yelled.

"I can't breathe!" She claimed, landing on her hands with the loss of the boy's support.

Attempting to crawl forward, she stumbled, her face crashing to the floor. As she turned around to look up at the ceiling the world turned around her just before she passed out.

* * *

Hermione groaned, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The moment she opened her eyes she knew where she was. She quickly sat up, only to gasp in surprise when she noticed both the Dumbledore men at the foot of her bed.

"What happened?" Hermione enquired.

"You passed out," Albus explained. "A fifth year Hufflepuff came across you. He said you were having some sort of panic attack."

"Oh, right," Hermione mumbled and with that everything came back to her, including the reason for the panic attack.

Her breathing started coming in short gasps just at the memory but Aberforth reacted before the situation could escalate and forced a calming draught down her throat. Albus seemed to want to reproach his brother for his forceful approach but Hermione stopped him before he could even open his mouth.

"Thank you, Abe," Hermione said, gratefully.

"Can you tell us what was wrong? Professor McGonagall said you ran out of her classroom when the Care of Magical Creatures professor intervened with an exceptional lesson."

"It was just so unexpected. I was taking notes, as asked but then-" Hermione started to reply but paused when a thought took over her brain.

Her gaze fell on Dumbledore and guilt twisted her stomach when she realized how little she trusted him. She shook her head and sighed. "Could I talk to Aberforth alone, please?"

Dumbledore seemed to hesitate, looking from Hermione to his brother. "I suppose I have no choice. I could hardly insist you to speak in my presence."

The pair watched him leave and Abe took it upon himself to set up the privacy spells, knowing that Hermione would do it if he didn't. "So what exactly are you wanting to hide from my brother?"

When Hermione remained silent, Aberforth spoke again. "I'm guessing it has something to do with your breakdown?"

Finally Hermione nodded. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"Perhaps if you explained what happened I could help?"

"Yes, of course. In class, everything was fine... but then, the snake... the snake _spoke_ to _me_."

The older man's eyebrows rose and he leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. He examined Hermione closely as he rubbed his chin. "Are you telling me, that you are a parselmouth?"

"I think so... I left before I could hear anything more than a 'Hello' from the snake."

"And you didn't know you had this ability? You never even suspected that...?"

"No, definitely not because I wasn't one before! I came across a large amount of snakes in my previous life and I never could understand them. Harry could, obviously, but that was only because he was linked to the Dark Lord."

"How exactly was he linked?"

"I can't say," Hermione replied, knowing she couldn't mention the fact that Harry was a Horcrux."

"Alright. Can you tell me if there is a possibility that you could be linked to the Dark Lord in the same way?"

Hermione bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to recall every detail of what she went through. No matter how hard she thought about it, she could not find a single moment when she was face to face with Voldemort long enough to become a Horcrux.

She shook her head. "No."

Aberforth hummed thoughtfully. "This could have something to do with your Time-Travel."

Hermione tensed. "Do you really think so?"

Aberforth nodded his head slowly, lost in thought. "Hermione, my next question is of the utmost important. It is vital that you try to recall anything you went through during your Time-Travel. Every detail could be important: a sound, a feeling, anything!" Aberforth sounded urgent.

"Well," Hermione squinted, struggling to remember the events correctly. "I was fighting against Death Eaters at Hogwarts. My spells were failing. That is to say, they passed through people without effect but when they hit a wall or were aimed at rocks, debris, they worked flawlessly. Malfoy joined me briefly at one point. I sent him away when I spotted his mother. I knew if he stayed we would both be in a bad way. He left, thankfully. I tried to keep on fighting, but to no avail, all I could do was destroy walls and move stones."

Hermione blinked tears gathering in her eyes. "So many people were dying around me. I was panicking. I was becoming so entirely useless. When my friend Ron died, I knew I would follow soon. I mean, throwing boulders at Death Eaters who were throwing the Killing Curse at me could only get me so far. That was when everything started to move in slow-motion. I had more than enough time to step out of the way of a Killing Curse sent at me. I couldn't understand what was happening. At first I thought it was some sort of new spell. But then Malfoy was back by my side fighting. For a second I thought he had come back to help me, as odd as that sounds. Only, I quickly realized things were moving by quickly, and Malfoy was gone again and that's when I knew what was happening. I had Time-Travelled enough times to recognize when it was happening to me.

"I saw the battle disappear, the castle was back in it's normal state. People moved by me in blurs, until time was moving backwards too quickly for me to make out anything other than the castle which stayed the same through it all. Finally it all stopped, I saw Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster staring at me. Then everything went black. I remember being calm in the darkness of my mind. Serene."

"And then you woke up? Is that all?"

Hermione was about to nod but paused, a niggling in the bak of her mind telling her there was something more. Something important she should remember. "No, there's something else. Something that happened in the darkness."

Everything was silent in the hospital wing, the only sound that of Hermione and Aberforth's breathing and yet Hermione would swear she could hear whispering voices in the back of her mind. They were so low she couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Louder, louder," Hermione muttered through gritted teeth. Her eyes were scrunched up tight as she tried to hear the voices better. She had heard them before, that she knew.

"For you, Hermione Granger..." Hermione whispered.

"What are you saying?"

"I heard those words in my head, when I was unconscious... And something else..." She murmured. There had been other words. She was sure of it. Something about Merlin. "A Magical Core and Merlin. Arh, I can't remember clearly."

"A Magical Core? Interesting."

"Do you think that has something to do with my new ability?"

Abe pressed his lips together before answering. "It's highly unlikely... Impossible, even... But you mention Merlin, and if there exists one wizard who could achieve the impossible, it would have been him. I would need more knowledge on Magical Cores and Merlin himself in order to help you further."

"Merlin wasn't a Parselmouth, that much I know, so how could it have anything to do with him?"

"Even if he has nothing to do with it I believe that it could lead us in the right direction," Aberforth said as he stood to leave. "I will keep you informed with any progress I might make on the subject."

Both Hermione's hands were clutching the blanket that was covering her as she sat, watching Aberforth leave. He stopped just as he arrived at the door and turned back towards her. "You did right to keep this from my brother. He would deny it, but life has made him wary of Parselmouths."

Hermione smiled at him, glad he thought she had made the right decision.

* * *

The next day, when Hermione finally got the courage to go back to class, she could feel the eyes on her. Everyone in her year and over had heard of her condition the previous day. Hermione knew she no doubt had to thank her classmates and the fifth year Hufflepuff for the story spreading. Hermione had had a restless sleep and dark bags could be seen under her eyes. Before she could reach her usual seat at the Ravenclaw table, an older boy came over to her with a sheepish smile.

"Hello, you probably don't remember, but I was the one who found you the other day. Dirk Cresswell," he held out his hand for her to shake.

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for helping me out yesterday. I'm sorry for any problems it may have caused you," Hermione blushed, taking his hand.

"Nonsense, even though you interrupted my Gobbledegook practice," he shook his head. "I'm just glad to see you're okay! You really scared me for a moment there."

"Yes, well, I'm not entirely sure _what_ happened yesterday, I"m just glad it's over," she was about to turn away when his words finally sunk in. "Wait a minute, did you say you were practising Gobbledegook? As in you're trying to learn it?" She questioned in surprise.

It was Dirk's turn to blush and he rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded. "Yeah, I've been learning for a while now... Lots of people have told me to give up, that it's not worth the time seeing as almost all Gobblins are fluent in English, but I figure, since I plan on working with them one day, it's only polite I learn their mother tongue."

Hermione's mouth had fallen open while he spoke. "Wow! That's amazing!"

"Hehe, well, you'd be one of the first to say that," he mumbled.

"Do the teachers know?"

"Nah."

"So you're getting no help at all?" He shrugged. "Incredible!"

"Yeah, anyway, I have to get going, I'm going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures. I just wanted to say I was glad you were okay. See you around," he said, picking his bag from the floor and walking away with a few other students in his class.

Hermione sat down at her table, deciding to only have a slice of toast and butter before class. Now that she had no one to talk to to distract her from her thoughts, she lost herself in them, trying to figure out how it was possible she was a Parselmouth. It was as she was finishing her toast that she came to the conclusion that the best way to learn more about it was to talk to the first snake that had ever spoken to her. _Veru Mortiferum._ She had to go see it as soon as possible.

Hermione was fidgety for the whole day of lessons and never raising her hand, something that did not go unnoticed by a number of her classmates, mainly Adrian, Pandora and the Marauders. While the first two and Remus were worried, the other three Marauders were curious, they suspected she had something planned. And she did have something planned, they were right about that, but that something did not concern them. So when the bell announcing the last hour of class had finished, the Marauders tried their hardest to follow Hermione who had immediately raced out of the room. Unfortunately, they were dragged away by the throng of students while Hermione carefully slipped through them and raced to the Care fo Magical Creatures Professor's office.

"What can I help you with?" Mrs Rumblehorn asked kindly when she opened the door to the flushed and panting Hermione.

"I was wondering if I could see the snake again? Just to observe it?"

"Oh, well, you come just in time. Special Ministry officials are coming to pick it up and bring it back to it's homeland in a few hours. You're welcome to come in, but remember, don't get too close to the cage."

Hermione nodded, striding confidently past the teacher. However, as soon as she saw the snake, her steps faltered, coming to a complete stop when the snake opened its eyes. The Professor said something about being just in the next room and Hermione found herself alone.

 _Hello._ It hissed. _Snake speaker._

"Hello," Hermione replied, figuring it was best to be polite, but having no clue if she was talking English or not.

 _I did not think I would see you again._ The snake tilted it's head, shifting it's body closer to the cage bars.

"Nor did I... But I couldn't stay away... I have... questions," Hermione spoke slowly, as if she was questioning her own actions.

 _I will answer._ It stated calmly, it's tongue peeking out of it's mouth.

"Oh, okay," Hermione looked around, as if surprised the snake had simply agreed to answer her. She found an empty crate and sat down on it. "How did you know I was a Parselmouth?"

 _Because I could tell._

"No, you have to be more precise!" Hermione muttered frustrated. "I need to understand! I wasn't a Parselmouth until a few days ago, tell me how you knew even though I had no idea!"

 _I can feel it within you. All snakes can recognize a snake speaker. They are rare. We must be able to recognize them in order to protect them._

"Protect them?"

 _If we did not recognize them, snakes like myself might attack them by mistake. Snakes do not harm snake speakers._

"Why not?"

 _For the same reason, we protect them, they protect us. They are powerful._

"Have you met any other Parselmouths?" Hermione wanted to know.

 _Not I, no. I had only heard of them, until I met you._

"Alright... But do you know if others exist?"

 _I have heard of one. In this land as well. He is said to have eyes as green as a garden snakes scales. He befriended many in his youth._

"Tom."

 _I do not know his name._

"Have you perhaps heard of any other snake speakers?"

 _No. That is not possible. Being able to speak with snakes, for your kind, is not common. In fact it is close to nonexistent. Only one family line has ever been known to have snake speakers._

Horror started to seep through Hermione's being. "Slytherin."

 _Yes._

"But I am no Slytherin, in house nor in blood," Hermione argued, firmly without a doubt.

 _You may be a snake speaker, but you are not the smartest._

"What do you mean?"

 _You are a witch._ Hermione nodded in confirmation, though the snake was not waiting for one. _Then you should know there are other ways to be part of a wizarding line._

Before the words even had time to sink in, there was a knock on the door as it was pushed open. "Sorry, the Professor said I could join you."

"No problem," Hermione replied, frowning at the snake as she tried to understand what it meant.

Hermione moved over on the crate, leaving room for the boy to join her if he wished to. He glanced at her blue tie, and knowing that Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were less prejudiced against Slytherins, took the place she was offering.

"You came to see the snake before it left?" The boy questioned, staring at the snake Hermione had yet to look away from.

"Yes, I was fascinated by it."

"She's beautiful," the boy murmured.

The snake raised it's head, meeting Hermione's gaze before slipping it over to the boy and hissing. Hermione couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"I think she's pleased by the flattery," as she spoke she turned towards the boy and gasped. "Regulus!"

The boy tensed. "Do I know you?"

"No! It's just, I know your brother!"

"You do?" Regulus asked, shifting away from the girl carefully.

Hermione nodded. "He wouldn't be happy with you sitting next to me," she told him.

Regulus scoffed. "My brother is a bloody Gryffindor. I'm not sure he has the best judgement."

Hermione giggled at the way Regulus carelessly brushed off his brother's opinion even though they were still relatively close at this time.

"I don't think your brother is a bully because of the fact that he's a Gryffindor," Hermione commented.

Regulus shook his head. "No, he's a bully for survival," he paused, tilting his head to look at Hermione from the corner of his eyes. "Who are you exactly?"

"Hermione Delacour," Hermione introduced herself, sticking out her hand.

"Pleasure to meet you," Regulus replied with proper pureblood politeness, recognizing the name. "As you seem to already know, I'm Regulus Black."

Just as Hermione was going to speak the door opened, cutting off her train of thought. "I'm sorry children, but the Ministry officials are here for the snake."

Hermione and Regulus stood, moving to the side of the office in order to leave room for the people entering. Both the first year and second year students left the office after being told by the professor that dinner had just started and that they should head down. Walking together towards the Great Hall, Hermione tried to keep the conversation going.

"So you like snakes?"

"I find they're the only animal worth knowing anything about, especially if they are magical snakes, which the _Veru Mortiferum_ is. One of the most powerful. With just a bite it can kill you in seconds."

"A protective and defensive mechanism, not something they abuse," Hermione commented.

"Sure, but still, to think if a Wizard could do such a thing."

Hermione resisted the urge to comment that a wizard could, if he felt capable of using the Killing Curse. However, the pair had arrived at the Great Hall so she stopped with Regulus in front of the tables and smiled at him.

"It was wonderful talking with you Regulus. I always enjoy talking with people who aren't complete dunderheads," she teased.

Regulus laughed. "You must be talking about Gryffindors!"

Hermione shook her head. "Not necessarily," sighing, she started to turn away as she spoke. "Perhaps we'll talk again. Have a nice evening."

It was as she was sitting down next to Adrian and Pandora that Hermione noticed Sirius glancing from her to his brother with an intense frown on his face.

* * *

"Why does she insist on befriending everyone close to me?!" Sirius ranted, later that evening in the confines of his room.

The Marauders were eyeing the boy as if he were a bomb waiting to explode. James was lying down on Remus' bed with the other boy who was currently munching on a chocolate bar. "Perhaps she's a social butterfly? And that those people don't reject her advances?" James tried, already bored by the subject.

Sirius shook his head. "She must be doing it on purpose just to annoy me!"

"This may shock you Sirius, but the world does not revolve around you. Much less her's. In fact I think she would be perfectly content if you weren't part of her world at all," Remus snapped, frustrated that his friend always insisted on complaining about the girl. "Though it wouldn't be farfetched to say your world revolves around her," Remus mumbled under his breath lightly.

James being the only one to hear him, snorted loudly in surprise, clutching his stomach. "Wow, Remus, mate!" Was all he said.

"Think about it," Sirius continued as if his friends hadn't uttered a word. "She befriended Remus who knows when or how! And now my brother? How is she tricking them?!"

"Tricking them? Don't you think that may be harsh? She's not _that bad_ , Sirius," James spoke quietly, wanting to get over this subject of discussion.

"Not that _bad_?! Oh Merlin, not you too James! Please tell me she didn't convert you too!" Sirius pleaded.

Rolling off of Remus' bed James snatched one of Remus' chocolate bars, ignoring his friend's indignant 'Hey!' of protest. "She didn't _convert_ me, Sirius. She came over to the house for dinner with her brother this summer. Let's just say that when we were left alone, certain things were said and done. I got her out of my system. I don't like her but she doesn't bother me anymore."

"James!" Sirius exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I think you should just leave her alone Sirius," James commented as he left the room. "She does't need to deal with your shit," he said with a discrete hard undertone, showing that, while he didn't want to fight with his best friend, he still meant what he said. He spoke with the echoes of the conversation he had overheard and the one he had shared with her resonating inside his mind.

 **A/N: And that is it for now! Next chapter is an exciting one! Well in my opinion it is! Tell me what you thought of this one! I would have written it longer, joining this one with the next one, but since the following one is like a fundamental pillar to the story, I thought it deserved a chapter all to itself. Hopefully I won't take too long to update.**


	12. Chapter 12: Six Magical Cores

**A/N: Chapter 12. My gosh! A second chapter so soon?! I know, but what can I say, I was inspired. Here it goes. Brace yourselves, this chapter is going to be one heck of a heavy** **chapter in terms of information for the rest of the story! Hold on tight and enjoy! Thanks for staying with me all the way. As usual, please excuse spelling** **mistakes, English is not my mother tongue so sometimes I might make a few errors, even though I reread chapters a hundred times. Thank you for understanding.**

 **Enjoy!**

 _December 13th, 993_

 _Spending weeks in such close proximity with Rowena makes me wonder. I hesitate to tell her and the others about what I have done, about what I have hidden within the school walls. They wouldn't understand, they would claim I had defiled their work. Though I know they are wrong, I wonder if I should share my secret with them. I could start with Rowena. I know she would be the most likely to understand my reasoning. I have faith that she would agree with the Chamber._

 _However, I fear that bringing it up now would distract her from our current work. It has been months and we still have not found the information we seek, but I cannot risk distracting her. It is frightfully frustrating knowing that the knowledge we need is just within our grasp. The explanation must be in Merlin's book. But we cannot reach it. I still feel the sting of rejection. 'Only the one who carries his Magic can pass.' Morgan Le Fay said. What a curious way of phrasing it. Someone can only have another's Magic if it is given to them directly or if they are an Heir. I suppose she did specify that the person was his Heir. But why? If the person has his Magic, of course they are his Heir. The two are unavoidably linked. The phrasing, I'm starting to believe it has more importance than I originally thought. It sounded as if the person somehow had the Magic and_ then _became the Heir. Though one should first be Heir and then, as she said it,_ carry _the Magic._

 _Carry? In this context, this word truly confuses me. One does not carry Magic, one inherits it... An object carries Magic. An object cannot be an Heir. A person can be though. A curious thought, indeed._

 _I wonder..._

 _-Salazar Slytherin_

Hermione could feel a thought niggling at the back of her mind. Transferring your Magic into an object was easy. Putting part of your Magical Core inside an object was much harder. Would it be possible to transform the object during the act of placing your Magical Core inside? Could Merlin have turned the object containing his Core into, not just a container, but a vessel? To transfer his Magic from himself to another? As these thoughts and ideas went through her mind Hermione went on to read the next entry by Rowena, her eyes widening when she realized they had come to the same conclusion as her.

 _December 15th, 993_

 _The idea is unbelievable. It's almost laughable to think that Merlin would attempt something as unpredictable as this. That he would actually believe the risk was worth it. He may have, for the first time ever, Seen a stable future and known there was no risk, which is quite impossible. Or he Saw so many horrible futures that he believed the risk worth it. I don't know which would be worse._

 _His Magic resisted us which is at least, a slightly good sign to show it won't be transferred to just anyone, but if it were to be absorbed by the wrong person... There is no telling what could happen in the years to come when Merlin's spells surrounding his Core have started to weaken._

 _Not to mention that Godric, Salazar, Helga and I all added our Cores to it! It could change nothing. Or it could change everything. Merlin could have Seen and planned according to our actions. Or he could have... He could have... There are so many possibilities to end that sentence. And until someone reads his book, no one will know what exactly he was thinking._

 _I wish luck to whoever absorbs all five Cores. To be able to withstand it, the person must have an extremely strong Magical Core. I even wonder if such a person could exist. To carry not just their own Magical Core, but five others? The idea is unbelievable. It could tear the person apart from the inside. Drain their_ _life source in a matter of hours. No one would be able to live with so much power contained within them. And even if they could, what about control? How would they be able to control new Magic they had never experienced before? If they were to release all that power at once... I shudder to think what would happen to them and those the power was aimed at._

 _To think, all this will happen to an unsuspecting Witch or Wizard. I pity them. I pity them for ever touching that stone, vessel of our Cores._

 _-Rowena Ravenclaw_

The book fell from her hands before Hermione even realized her grip had gone slack. She should have read this book sooner. Was this her answer?! Had she, for some reason absorbed their Magical Cores? How had she survived that? Had it been an accident? Was it meant for someone else?

 _For you, Hermione Granger..._

Alright, perhaps they had been meant for her. Or at least Merlin's had. But she had also accidentally taken the Founders Cores' as well... Obviously she suspected she had because of her newfound ability, but that could be due to other things... She supposed that there was one way of finding out if she truly was an Heir of Slytherin. But did she dare attempt such a thing?

 _December 27th, 993_

 _We have reread all the books on Magical Cores and nowhere is it stated that one can put part of their Magical Core into an inanimate object in order to transfer it to another person, years into the future._

 _However, it is also nowhere stated that you cannot do such a thing._

 _This concept intrigues me. Perhaps Merlin experimented. He had so many devoted disciples that I do not doubt he could have convinced a few to test out his theory. Why would they have refused? If they divided their Core, taking only a tiny fraction of it out and placing it into an object, leaving it for a few years and then letting it be absorbed by another, they were sacrificing nothing, they had nothing to lose by doing this for Merlin. And if they did proceed to such experiments and have them all be successful... Why wouldn't Merlin risk it for a longer period? Still... Centuries seem an awfully long time to leave your Magical Core unattended. Despite plans and such, the Core could be stolen by another or accidentally taken._

 _Though, to some extent, the idea is brilliant. Indeed, possessing the gift of Sight, Merlin could have easily Seen something in the future, Seen someone who was in desperate need of his Magic and decided to place his Core into an object in order to give it to them, even if the risk of someone else taking it was high. His Core, being encased into the stone, was in no risk of losing its strength and denseness, unlike if he had confided it to people to pass it on from generation to generation._

 _I must say it: Merlin is a genius, but an insane one._

 _-Rowena Ravenclaw_

The bell signaling the end of her first lunch period rang, bringing her out of her thoughts and she quickly picked up the book, shoving it into her bag and hurried across the school grounds, hoping to arrive at the dueling lesson in time to avoid a tardy. When she reached the correct hall, she was relieved to see the students only starting to file into the classroom. Adrian sent her a questioning glance but Hermione shrugged, smiling at him to reassure him.

"Where were you?" He still wanted to know. "You missed lunch."

"I wasn't hungry. There were things I needed to do," she told him vaguely, peeking at the other side of the corridor, that just so happened to lead to a girls abandoned lavatory.

"Hermione," Adrian called her name as he tugged at her sleeve, Hermione blushed as she was pulled out of her thoughts noticing the line that had grown behind her.

Hermione was once again fidgety all throughout her courses during the rest of that day. She needed to discuss matters with Albus and Aberforth. Aberforth had promised to come find her when he had more information on Merlin and Magical Cores but it had been weeks since she had heard from him, a couple of months actually. She needed answers. It would do no good hiding this from Dumbledore because, even though she didn't want him to know that she was now a Parselmouth, he already knew she was part of all four houses. Hadn't he said as much when she had gained access to the Founders' Diary? _"Only a member of all four houses could gain access to it."_ Did he already suspect how she had come to be a member of all houses? If he had, why hadn't he told her? Did he know, then, that she was a Parselmouth?

It was as Hermione was nibbling her thumb nail with these thoughts dancing around her mind that someone knocked on the classroom door. All heads turned to the door in surprise, the lesson had been going on for too long for it to be a late student, so it could only be a professor or older student interrupting the class in order to pass on a message or make an announcement.

"I'm terribly sorry for interrupting, Professor," the calm voice of Albus Dumbledore said as he stepped over the threshold. "I'm afraid it couldn't wait."

"Not at all, Albus," Professor Slughorn replied with an overjoyed smile on his face as he motioned to the Headmaster to say what he came to say.

"I was wondering if I might be allowed to borrow Miss Delacour for a moment?"

Hermione pursed her lips when half the students simultaneously turned on her. Couldn't he have phrased it in another way? He made it sound terrible. _It simply couldn't wait._ Honestly, now everyone was going to think the worst. Oh, _she_ simply couldn't wait for the rumours.

Horace nodded and with a sigh, Hermione snapped her Potions book shut, slipped it into her bag and crossed the room over to the old man who ushered her out of the classroom before him and followed behind her after shutting the door.

"So, Headmaster, what's the matter?"

"My brother has come to see you. He is waiting in my office," he said and attempting to ease the awkwardness of her kicking him out of his own office he added. "Do not worry, I have business to attend to with Minerva, so I won't be present."

Hermione hesitated before speaking. "Actually, Sir, I would very much appreciate it if you were present today. I believe it would be quite useful to have your insight on the matter."

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised slowly in amusement. "So you do trust me then?" He teased.

Hermione blushed. "I've always trusted you, Sir. With my life, in fact. I simply do not want to be manipulated for the greater good. As horrible as it may sound, I want to have control over what I choose to do or not and what happens to me."

Dumbledore stopped just in front of the Goblin leading to his office. "I apologize if I did that to you in your other life, Miss Granger," he said, hoping to show how sincere he was by using her birth name.

Hermione shook her head. "You never really did it to me, Sir, at least not when it mattered. But you did do it to Harry, so much so in fact that we started to wonder if Harry had ever made a decision for himself. Of course, your intentions were all in good faith but... Well, it was hard on Harry, especially since even after your death you seemed to be able to manipulate Harry into doing according to your plans," Hermione added a twisted smile at the end, hoping to show him that she wasn't angry with him because of that.

"I see," Albus mumbled.

Hermione raised a shoulder in a half shrug. "It's unlikely to happen in this timeline though, if I have any say."

"My dear, with your knowledge, I believe you have the only say," Dumbledore chuckled as the pair ascended the stairs to his office after stating the password.

"Finally, Hermione! I was starting to wonder if the pair of you would make it here before dinner," Aberforth complained.

Ignoring his complaint Hermione took the seat next to him, turing it slightly so she could look both men directly. "What was so important that you had to pull me out of my last class of the day to tell me?"

"I believe I understood how you came by your new abilities," Aberforth announced, glancing at his brother, unsure if he should elaborate.

"You can speak freely on this matter, Abe, I've thought it over these past few months and I don't believe hiding this from Albus would do me any good. He already knows I am a member of all four houses."

"How does he know this?" Aberforth asked, curious.

"He was a witness when I came across this," Hermione explained pulling out the Founders' Diary.

Aberforth's eyes widened exponentially. "Is that-?"

"The Founders' Diary? Yes, and as it happens I've been doing research of my own while you were away. It's highly likely that we came to the same conclusion."

"That Merlin placed his Magical Core into an inanimate object in order to give it to you?"

Hermione nodded. "And that the Founders added their own Cores before realizing what his Core was for."

"Which is why you now have the ability to speak to snakes," Aberforth added.

"And why I could gain access to this book. They knew. They wrote it for me as soon as they figured it out," Hermione scrunched up her face briefly before correcting herself. "Well, they started writing it, realized what had happened and then charmed it so only I could read it."

"So if we are correct in our understanding and assumptions, you are now harbouring five extra Magical Cores."

A heavy silence followed that statement, no one dared speak. The thought was almost a terrifying one.

"How are you still _alive_?" Aberforth demanded, horrified. "No one should be able to carry so many Magical Cores inside them? How are you controlling them?"

Hermione was at a loss on how to answer, so once again a silence fell on the trio.

Finally, Albus cleared his throat and leaned forward in his seat. "I now regard your decision to sit out of your duelling club lessons as a very wise one indeed. There is no telling what could have happened if you participated. However, another wise decision now, would be to agree to a few sessions with myself or Aberforth to learn how to control all that Magic inside you. It will be complicated, for neither of us know anything about controlling six Magical Cores, but we will learn together. We cannot risk you releasing all that power for no reason on a most unsuspecting person."

Hermione nodded agreeing with his logic. "Not to mention that you absorbed five very powerful Magical Cores. Those Cores you now carry come from five of the most powerful witches and wizards of all time. How are you dealing with it so well?" Aberforth wanted to know, still appearing shocked.

The curly haired witch frowned. "I don't know. I honestly feel no different from before. My Magic is still the same as before. I never would have noticed anything if it hadn't been for that snake speaking to me. And well, it is true that many of the Magical Creatures of the castle have been acting oddly around me. That includes the Giant Squid, I'm not a hundred percent sure _what_ that was about, but still, I never suspected a thing."

Dumbledore nodded, tugging at his beard. "Interesting, you absorbed the Cores the four Founders placed here in order to bring life to the castle, and thus you have created a bond with the castle. The creatures here can obviously feel it. Which ones have you interacted with?"

"Well, as I just said the squid, for one, but also, the goblin guarding your office, a few ghosts, including Moaning Myrtle, who was much more approachable and a few of the portraits."

"Even the ghosts feel it? Fascinating. You have a true link with the castle. Have you tried using this link on anything in the castle? The stairs for example? You are after all carrying the Cores that bring life to this castle, you should be able to order them around."

"No, I mean I did just discover all this. Up until this moment I hadn't made the connection with the Cores and the life of the castle, though I should have, it is one of the first things the Founders write about in their Diary."

Another silence grew, though less heavy than the last two and Hermione fell back in her seat as if exhausted. "This is not what I was expecting."

Both Dumbledores shook their head's slowly, to show how unexpected all of this had truly been. "And to add to it, it still explains nothing about how I time traveled!" Hermione almost yelled, throwing her hands up in the air and dropping them back onto the armrests of her chair.

"Hermione," Dumbledore spoke carefully, saying her name to accentuate the importance of his next words. "In this case, after everything we've just discovered and understood, I don't think the question to ask is _how_ you time-traveled, but very much _why._ _"_

"I'm sorry?" Hermione inquired, confused. "I'm not sure I follow."

"What he means Hermione, is we just discovered you absorbed five Magical Cores, one of those coming from Merlin himself and you yourself stated, the last time we spoke, that Merlin had divided his Core purposefully to give it to you. _For you, Hermione Granger..._ That shows that this was no mistake, no coincidence. Merlin meant for you to carry his Core, and knowing his reputation, he probably also planned for you to have the Founders Cores' as well. You having these Cores has nothing to do with chance, Hermione. He obviously found a way to make you travel through time and he must have chosen the time and place was well. Nothing is ever coincidence when it comes to Merlin. He wanted you to be here, in this time, with these powers," he paused, giving what he was saying time to sink in and her time to understand it. "So the question here Hermione is, as my brother said, _why_? What does he want you to achieve?"

Hermione was frozen in her seat, her mouth hanging open. She tried to speak and blushed furiously when nothing but a few high pitched squeaks escaped her mouth.

"Only you can figure out the answer, Miss Granger," the Headmaster urged her. "Only you know the future we are destined to live. Only you can change it."

Hermione raised her eyes to meet the eyes of the Headmaster as she murmured lowly. "Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time."

Albus nodded. "Indeed, but you've already started meddling, haven't you?" He reminded her, causing her to look away in shame. "And as my brother and I have tried to make you understand, you've traveled too far back in time: your future no longer exists, it hasn't existed ever since you appeared in this time. Even if you were to lock yourself away in a tower and never interact with anyone, your future would never come to be. One similar perhaps, but never identical."

Hermione was gnawing at her lower lip. "This is real, isn't it? My other life doesn't exist?" Though Hermione had known this for her whole time spent here, she was, in some deep part of her heart hoping it was all a dream.

The Dumbledore duo nodded at her and Hermione felt her whole body sag. It was not a dream. She had always known that. Why was a small part of her disappointed? Her life had been full of war and destruction and her future in that life would have been much the same. Her family, her friends, her mentors, her allies... They had all died. Hadn't she watched Ron die in front of her eyes? Hadn't she seen Remus and Tonks lifeless bodies holding hands in the middle of the rubble? Hadn't she felt an urge to barf at the sight of Lavender being devoured by Greyback? Hadn't she been witness to Fred being crushed alive by a crumbling wall? Hadn't she heard Harry admit that, when the time came he would have to sacrifice himself for them all? Why would she want to go back to that world? Nothing good was waiting for her there.

But here, being here opened up so many possibilities for her. She could find the Horcruxes, destroy them, kill Voldemort. She had bought the vanishing cabinet, but even she new that had been a feeble attempt for her to pretend she was living. She wasn't living so much as pretending to live. She had done such a good job at it, that up until now, she had been convinced she was living. But obviously, a part of her had refused to let go of the past, or future as the case may be. But how could she live in this time as if her past didn't exist? She would be betraying everyone in her other life. No, she was looking at this the wrong way, she wouldn't be betraying them, she would be saving them, even if, in this life, they would never know they were in need of saving. Hermione smiled a somewhat angry smile when she realized she had already had a similar discussion with herself last year. This time, however, she meant it. She well and truly meant it.

Harry would not grow up without his parents. Sirius would not end up in Azkaban for close to thirteen years only to die two years after escaping. Teddy would not have to grow up knowing both his parents had been casualties of the Second Wizarding War. Lavender would not be destined to be a meal. Malfoy would not be forced into becoming a Death Eater in order to save his mother.

Not on her watch. Not if she could help it. And she knew _exactly_ where to start.

* * *

She knew exactly where to start... First, however, she wanted to get something out of the way. But that didn't mean she could bring herself to actually do it. The First floor girl's toilet. She had wandered over to it on countless occasions. She had even entered it on occasion. In fact, the last times she had entered the toilet, she had stood before the sink that would lead her to where she wished to go. Myrtle had always been floating around her, commenting on things Hermione could care less about, but it was the ghost's presence that stopped her from ever opening her mouth to open the door. For some reason, Hermione felt guilty. She knew what had happened to Myrtle Warren. It wasn't pretty.

"Are you going to stand there for hours again?" Myrtle whined, floating to be level with Hermione.

"I- I don't know. I haven't decided."

"You know what's past that don't you? You wouldn't be staring at the sink like that if you didn't," Myrtle observed, still using a very annoying tone of voice.

"Yes," Hermione agreed.

"Are you going to open it?"

"How do you know I can?"

"I'm dead, in case you haven't noticed," Myrtle bemoaned. "You're such a know-it-all, you should know."

"All the dead who reside within the castle are linked to it," Hermione recited, realization hitting her like a slap to the face. "So you, and all the other ghosts, feel connected to me because I carry the life of the castle within me!" She exclaimed.

"Exactly," Myrtle sighed, exhausted and annoyed as she flopped down onto her back in midair. "I desperately want to dislike you as much I dislike everyone in this castle, except, of course, those Marauders and a few of the Ravenclaw boys, but I can't. I'm cursed to feel a connection towards you. It's absolutely unbearable!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," Hermione mumbled, regretfully.

"Ugh, whatever," Myrtle spat. "Have you made a decision then?" She wanted to know, impatiently.

Taking a deep breath Hermione steeled her resolve and spoke. " _Open."_

She had no idea if she had done it correctly until she heard the distinct sound of marble grating against marble. Hermione felt Myrtle float slowly down to stand by her side, her arm tingling disturbingly everytime Myrtle would hover a little too closely. Both remained absolutely silent, even when the door was wide open. Slowly, they approached the entrance, peeking over the edge of the tunnel. When still after 10 minutes, Hermione did nothing, Myrtle turned to face her.

"Do you want me to push you?" She offered, with a sick sort of pleasure shining through her eyes.

"While I can tell the thought of pushing me down this dark tunnel brings you a lot of pleasure, I would like to point out that you can't actually push me," Hermione said, almost smugly, she knew without a doubt, that had Myrtle been alive, Hermione would already be tumbling down that tunnel.

Myrtle shrugged, moving a little behind Hermione. "I might not be able to physically push you, I can guarantee that if I pass my whole ghost body through you, you'll fall down that tunnel."

Quickly Hermione moved away from the hole behind her. "Don't you dare!"

"Hmm, pity," Myrtle said, pouting her lips and floating away, disappearing into her toilet.

Hermione turned back towards to hole and stared at it for a while longer. Slowly, Hermione shook her head, she had taken it a step further than the last few times she had been in this lavatory, but she still wasn't ready to go down there.

"Not yet," she whispered to herself. " _Soon_ , but not yet."

* * *

Hermione was tired. She needed a break. The Chamber of Secrets was making her lose her mind. She needed to get that over and done with soon or she would become well and truly crazy. Her every thought revolved around the Chamber. She couldn't concentrate and her grades were slipping. She had started her private lessons two and a half months ago, with both Aberforth and Albus and they had noticed her concentration slipping. They had, thankfully, informed her Professors that she was dealing with serious personal matters and so, the professors weren't being as hard on her as they would have been. Still, even their leniency had limits. Her grades were close to being downright terrible, she was barely scraping by with Acceptables in her every course and she feared that if she didn't get the Chamber out of her mind they would keep slipping. She had already passed all these courses with Outstandings in her previous life and it was unacceptable for her to pass with anything else in this life.

Even with this determination, Hermione couldn't bring herself to open the Chamber again, much less go in. Her sleep was, as always, troubled, but now with memories of her Second year and what had happened. She needed something to help her. She knew she shouldn't resort to such methods but she was desperate for a good nights sleep and the ability to concentrate on her courses, which was why she was currently walking towards the Hospital Wing, ready to beg for a Sleeping Draught, a Calming Draught, anything to help her.

She was, as always these days, lost in thought as she entered the Wing, and she didn't notice the four boys that fell silent in the corner of the room. She paused in front of the door leading to Madame Pomfrey's office, the boys moving away from Remus' bed as she raised her hand to knock on the door. Just as she was about to, Sirius crashed into one of the small metallic tables beside each hospital cot, drawing Hermione's attention to the boy on the bed.

She gasped in surprise as she saw the state her werewolf friend was in. He looked ragged, tired and very sore. Hermione's hands flew to her mouth before they could touch the door.

"Oh Merlin, Remus!" She raced to his side, fell into the empty seat by his bedside and grabbed his hand, paying no attention to the others present. In fact she still hadn't realized they were there. Her mind was so slow and tired at the moment that she missed many things right in front of her nose, and it took her quite a bit longer to understand things.

"Hermione," Remus said, weakly, wanting to inform her of his friends presence.

She interrupted him before he could continue. "Oh Remus! How long has it been?" She asked, frantic as she clutched his hand tighter.

Sighing, he decided to answer her instead of letting her worry. "Only a few months," he tried to sound nonchalant, but winced when he made the mistake of trying to shrug.

"How many Remus?" She demanded, her tone angry, though the anger, he knew, was directed at herself.

"Three," he admitted.

Tears slipped from her eyes as she breathed in a shuddering breath. "I'm so so sorry, Remus! I've been a terrible friend."

"You had a lot on your mind, I could tell."

"That is no excuse, Remus! I forgot about you! You had to suffer three months without the potion! You should have come to me, Remus! I- I-... Three months Remus! They must have been horrible! You had only just started getting used to the potion and then I go and take it away from you! That's the worse kind of torture!"

"Hermione, it was an honest mistake," Remus tried to reassure her, but she would only shake her head at him. "If you must blame yourself, at least blame me as well, I could have easily come to you to ask for more. I simply didn't want to be a bother."

"Remus, you should know by now that you'd never be a bother," she smiled a watery smile, tears still falling down her cheeks. Carefully, she picked his hand up and placed it on her hip, he knew the scar she had there, he had seen it once by accident in the hospital wing. "We're family after all, aren't we?"

Remus smiled, removing his hand from her hip and taking her hand again. "Always, you can't escape me," he teased.

Hermione chuckled despite her tears. "I will never forget about you again, but if it did happen, come to me Remus," she paused when he nodded, looking unconvinced. "No, Remus, look at me, _come_ to me, I'm serious."

There was cough behind them. "Actually, I'm Sirius."

"Oh my God, of course he does it in this time too, even if he hates me he can't stop himself," Hermione breathed, earning a confused look from Remus. "Bloody enhanced hearing. Mind your own damn business Remus," Hermione huffed, letting go of his hand, wiping at her cheeks and glancing at the other boys who all looked extremely confused.

"Oh, hello," Hermione greeted, when she realized they were all standing behind her.

"Yes, hello, even though we've been here the whole time," James replied, sarcastically looking at her rather neutrally, he wasn't glaring at her, but his gaze was definitely not friendly either.

Sirius was frowning, he was obviously trying to figure out why he had said his name pun in response to her words, he normally only did that with people he appreciated. Deciding to ignore that little slip of his, he turned his glare on full force. "So you know about Remus? For how long? You've known for longer than us apparently," Sirius observed, throwing a meaningful look his friends way. "Don't think for a second you're getting away with having told Delacour the truth before us, your _best friends,"_ Sirius warned his friend.

Hermione smiled at the jealousy and protectiveness she could hear in his tone of voice. "I didn't tell her, she guessed, I have no idea how but she did. She's been trying to help me deal with it better."

Suddenly, four pairs of eyes landed on her and she knew exactly what they were waiting for. Still, she waited until they voiced their question before answering. "How _did_ you know?" James asked for them all.

Sighing Hermione stood up, and wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs. "I've been around enough werewolves in my life to be able to recognize them in the blink if an eye."

She wasn't lying, having spent so much time with Remus and having had more encounters than she would have liked with Greyback, she was almost certain she could recognize a werewolf anywhere, whether it was one that wished to remain a secret or one who showed it off blatantly. Not wanting to discuss it more with the boys Hermione walked over to the closed door and knocked. Only when she was told to enter the office did she look back at the Marauders, who were looking at her with a mixture of confusion, horror and curiosity.

 **A/N: There we go, a chapter heavily charged with information... Hopefully it was clear enough for you? I'm trying to write it as if they'e only just understanding, so their thought process is all over the place... I hope that isn't a mistake. Ah well, I suppose you get the main gist of it. do any of you think you know where it is Hermione plans to start? I think it's fairly obvious but who knows? (Just in case, no it isn't with the Chambers of Secrets, she just wants to get that over with before starting on her new mission, for good this time).**

 **Please tell me what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13: Taking action

**A/N: Chapter 13. Things are happening people! Tell me what you think! Forgive me for spelling and typos and whatever.**

 **BTW for future and past chapters: Remember, while Hermione's life is similar to the book/movie versions, there are going to be differences in order for this story to work.**

 **Anyway, enjoy! I quite like the ending of the chapter but you tell me.**

"I'm curious..." There was pause as Remus slowly raised his head from his book and glanced at his friends, seeing James propped up at the head of his own bed, Peter chewing on a liquorice wand and Sirius sitting on the floor, using his wand to enchant ice onto the room's central heating.

"Don't you think it's been a while since our last prank?" He inquired.

This caught the attention of his friends, as it was a rare occasion when Remus was the one to suggest this. He was desperate for the distraction as he couldn't stop his mind from wandering over to what Hermione had said the other day in the hospital wing, just before the Christmas holidays. It had been two weeks since everyone had returned from the jolly merry holidays and still he couldn't get it out of his mind. Something just didn't sit right with him.

"Are you saying 'tis the hour for another well planned prank?" Sirius asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face, putting away his wand.

Without further ado, the four boys gathered around Remus' bed and started sharing their ideas.

* * *

It was the following Monday morning that anything of interest happened, at least according to the Marauders. It was still quite early, so the house tables were only partly full, the Great Hall uncharacteristically silent. Sirius was falling asleep on his hand, demanding why they had ever thought it was a good idea to awake so early just in order to set up a prank for the following Monday.

Hooting their arrival, the owls swooped into the Great Hall, dropping packages and letters to their intended. Owls on a rare occasion flew to Hogwarts early to deliver mail, and this morning was apparently one of those mornings, as glancing at the time, one could clearly see they were fifteen minutes early. This caused a lot of owls to land of the tables and impatiently wait for the missing students to arrive. Hermione took her Daily Prophet, paying the fee to the owl and letting him nibble on some of the food strewn across the table top. She carefully unrolled the paper, placing it on the table in front of her, pushing aside her plate.

Hermione didn't even read anything that was written below the date in the top right corner. Her eyes had carelessly drifted over to the date, a fault of habit but for some reason, today Hermione could not pull her gaze away from the printed numbers and letter. Her photographic memory never let her down and it wasn't going to today, she simply needed to be patient and let it come to her. So she sat, staring at the date, knowing it was important but not recalling why until suddenly, it hit her.

"MERLIN!" She all but yelled, not able to control her reaction to the realization. "No, no, no!" She muttered loudly, jumping from her seat and running out of the Great Hall under the watchful eyes of practically everyone present.

"What was that about?" Peter inquired, timidly.

"Hey! Frank, pass me your paper for a sec, would you?" James hollered at the older boy.

Frank shrugged, throwing the newspaper at the group while shoving a spoon of cereal into his mouth. James handed it to Remus, knowing he would be the most entitled to finding out what had caused his friend to react so strongly. However, flipping from page to page, the group could find nothing of significance and importance. Nothing that could have shocked Hermione so much. Curiosity continued gnawing at them when Hermione was absent from her first lesson with them. Asking a few questions, the Marauders quickly discovered that the girl had only been missing from their first class together, but had been to all her classes after that. Which was confirmed when she was present for Transfiguration acting as if nothing had ever happened.

They were on their way to the Gryffindor Tower at the end of the day when they noticed Hermione being intercepted by Dumbledore a few ways ahead of them and quickly hid inside an alcove in the hopes of hearing something interesting.

"Miss Delacour," Dumbledore greeted with a warm smile.

"Sir," Hermione nodded in welcome. "I trust you got my message?"

"Indeed I did, Aberforth was quick to inform me on the subject."

"I would have come to you directly, Sir, but you were not in your office and I didn't want to risk waiting until it was too late."

"Understandable, I assure you," Dumbledore agreed.

"Was it serious?" She wanted to check if she had remembered correctly or not.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Sirius was not involved," he said, enjoying his moments of rare obtuseness.

" _Sir,_ " Hermione said, her tone exasperated.

Chuckling to himself, indeed, he had found his joke quite amusing but perhaps the young girl was laking a sense of humour. "Walk with me Miss Delacour, we have much to discuss."

The pair walked away, oblivious to the four boys gathered just behind them. All had their mouths hanging open in shock.

"Oh Merlin, someone slap me!" James ordered.

"This has got-" Sirius started at the same time as Remus tried to speak.

"I better be dreaming, I did not just hear that!" Remus begged.

"-to be the _best_ day of my life!" Sirius claimed with a face eating grin.

"I found it funny," Peter chimed in.

Sirius turned to his chubby little friend, the grin becoming even wider. "Dumbledore used _my_ name pun!"

"Ugh, that's going to inflate his ego way more than his tiny self can handle," James groaned.

The boys then went on their way, completely disregarding the rest of the conversation they had overheard, their shock levels too high for the moment.

* * *

Arriving at the Headmaster's office, the pair continued their discussion.

"You saved a man's life today, Miss Delacour."

"So Mr. Longbottom was removed to safety?"

"Yes, we got to him while he was still in his office."

"I'm glad to know he wasn't attacked," Hermione sighed in relief.

"You prevented that from happening. How did you know?" Dumbledore asked.

"I very much enjoyed reading the old newspapers in the Hogwarts library in my past life. I learnt so much by reading them. Before my Seventh year, I thought knowing as much as possible about the First War could be useful, so I read all the papers from this year till the end of the War. With my photographic memory, it was easy to remember that the date on today's paper, was the day that Mr Longbottom died. Tomorrow a newspaper article on his death would have been published with witness accounts. A prominent, high placed Auror, killed in broad daylight? How could it not make the news. It was one of Voldemort's first very public kills."

"This information you gathered will come in extremely handy, my dear. If you could remember as many as you can, you can save so many innocent witches and wizards."

"If I may ask, how did you go about handling the situation?"

"I simply went to the Order of the Pheonix members, I mentioned I had a source that told me an attack would take place today on Mr Longbottom. The members swept in and out without a problem and the attackers were spotted, but unfortunately, not apprehend."

Hermione was relieved to know that her identity had remained a secret. Of course, she supposed, many who were unaware of her circumstances would likely put little importance in her warnings, so keeping her identity a secret was fundamental for Dumbledore's credibility. Who would listen to a small twelve year old? Hermione new this was her first real attempt at changing the future. She was going all in now, there was no more possibility of turning back. Now... Now she was truly living. She was truly making a difference. Frank Longbottom would not have to live through his father's death, not yet.

"In fact, Mr Longbottom was so grateful for the rescue that he has decided to join the Order," Albus informed her. "I realize that you are young, physically, but you would be welcome in joining the Order, though it would be only to share your knowledge, not to participate in any missions."

Hermione grimaced. "Wouldn't it be odd if a twelve year old joined the Order?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "You would be joining anonymously. I would keep you informed of all the going ons of the Order and you in turn would pass along the information you choose."

"So I would be a member, but only you would know who I was?"

"Until you were old enough to reveal yourself," Dumbledore agreed.

"And if I choose to never do so?"

"That would be your prerogative, my dear. You could fake join the Order as an adult and still keep your identity as Source a secret."

"Not only for my safety but also because I wouldn't enjoy the attention and questions, it would be wiser to keep it secret and have as few people as possible ever learn I am the source."

"That may be true," Dumbledore acquiested.

"I should like to join, now, if possible, being aware of the Order's plans could help me remember certain events."

"Very well, I am proud of your decision," Albus offered with a smile, taking her hand to shake it.

He waved his wand over her, waiting for her to glow ever so slightly before dropping it again. "There we go. It is official."

The pair continued conversing for a while longer, Hermione assuring Dumbledore that she would try and note down all the dates and events she could remember, though informing him she would keep them to herself until the time was right. With only a few more words exchanged, Hermione left, wishing the headmaster goodnight.

* * *

Hermione had had enough of snakes. If she saw even one more snake today, she would likely burst. She had seen hundreds of them just this morning. The Marauder's had played another one of their famous pranks and had charmed all the food that was touched to turn into a miniature version of the person's House mascot. While her table had been covered in adorably small black ravens squawking and flying about, Gryffindor had been covered in fluffy little lions, Hufflepuff had been crawling with cute little black and white badgers. The only table with a miniature version of their animal that wasn't overly pleasant was Slytherin, the members of which found themselves surrounded by small snakes, that due to size, much resembled green worms.

Though Hermione found herself thinking that they were quite delightful in their own way as she plucked two snakes currently trying to slither up her leg. They were a beautiful emerald colour and their pink tongues slipping out, tickling her hand, caused her to spend a good five minutes giggling. The creatures had been charmed to disappear at the end of the day, so many students could be seen walking on their tip toes all day, carefully trying to avoid squashing the charmed food. It was undeniable that the Marauder's were very talented when it came to Charms and Transfiguration, if they could pull off such a trick so young.

When Hermione finally felt she couldn't take it any longer, Hermione slipped into the Room of Requirement, hoping that the little things wouldn't succeed in following her inside. Hermione was not surprised however, when she watched a small snake slither away gaily, disappearing in the mess that was the Room of Lost Things. She shrugged, figuring that the little thing would turn back into an apple or piece of toast later that night, so as long as it stayed away from her, it was none of her concern.

Hermione paused when she realized just where she had gone. She had not planned on coming here just yet. In fact, she had wanted to get the Chamber of Secrets out of the way before coming here, but she supposed it would be a waste if she didn't take advantage of the fact that she was here. Hermione couldn't delay it any longer. She was in the same room as one of Voldemort's Horcruxes and she couldn't leave without it. It would make no sense.

Dropping her bag, Hermione pulled the elastic from around her wrist and tied her hair up in a high ponytail, that, due to all the knots in it, almost resembled a bun.

The Muggleborn witch couldn't remember exactly where the Horcrux was. Ron, Harry and her had come here in the middle of the Final Battle and in the chaos and panic, Hermione had simply followed Harry blindly. Though she would be able to recognize the aisle and box the diadem was in. So, Hermione idly wandered from pile of rubbish to the next, examining the objects carefully. As she walked, Hermione found her mind wondering about the Vanishing Cabinet which was moved to this location during her time at Hogwarts, having originally been stored on the First Floor of Hogwarts. It was as Hermione was debating stealing the Cabinet and moving it to this very room for future use by herself that Hermione found the box.

Her heart was beating rapidly, her chest panting from the fear she could feel building inside her from the mere memory of Horcruxes. Closing her eyes, Hermione opened the box with the tips of her fingers pressing against each side of the wooden lid, after pushing aside random ropes and textiles. Holding her breath, she opened her eyes and simply stared at the horrifying object. Granted, the object itself was beautiful but knowing what it was... Hermione could already feel tendrils of its evil licking at her, caressing her arms as if to entice her into picking it up, already trying to influence her mind.

Gaining control of her senses, Hermione grabbed one of the large cloths behind her and wrapped the diadem with it, not wanting to touch the thing with her bare hands. Holding it close her body, Hermione spun on her heals and ran all the way to the door, taking her bag on the go, refusing to slow down, she exited the Room with incredible speed, wanting to escape the _thing_ in her arms as quickly as possible.

As she turned a corner, sliding a bit in her haste, she crashed into another person. Two other people as it happened. Pandora and Remus, whom she had never seen together before, but whose possible friendship would not surprise Hermione. Hermione yelped as the bundle in her arms fell to the floor, falling undone. Hermione was relieved when it stopped on the ground just shy of revealing what was hidden within the cloth. That was something she did not want to have to explain.

"Oh my Hermione! Are you quite alright. I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," Pandora apologized.

With trembling hands Hermione gathered the thing back safely within the protection of the cloth. "That's fine, I'm fine- Nothing happened. No problem. We're fine," she spluttered over her words, feeling herself break out in a panicked sweat.

"You don't feel fine, Hermione... Your aura feels very dark and you have no Bligmys around you," Pandora commented, concerned.

For a brief moment, Hermione was distracted. "Bligmys?"

Pandora nodded, sagely. "Yes, they're not very social creatures, _usually_ , but they seem to have taken a particular liking to you. Except for right now. They've all disappeared!" Pandora exclaimed, obviously very worried by this detail.

"O- Weh- I'm sorry for having scared them off. Not myself these days, you see. No, not at all. I-" Hermione stumbled over her words, looking anywhere but at her two friends.

"It's not your fault, they'll most likely be back, I mean they have been sticking to you for the past year and a half," Pandora shrugged. "You know, the fact that you attract Bligmys so much has always fascinated me. Truly. They're only suppose to surround those who have been touched by _Eo_ _Tempore..._ At least that's what they say."

"Who says?" Hermione inquired, curious but quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry, I need to... do something- go somewhere. Yes, that's right. I'll see you later. At dinner. Yes, dinner."

Without any more embarrassing fumbling Hermione continued with her race to her dorm room.

* * *

Hermione had hidden the tiara inside her trunk, buried it under a mess and had cast a number of Protection Spells in order to prevent her roommates from accidentally falling on it or from feeling its tortuous pull. Hermione knew that it wouldn't suffice however, she could even with all the spells, still feel the Horcrux lingering in the back of her mind. She needed it gone as soon as possible.

But how? Fiendfyre, though Hermione didn't trust herself to attempt that. She wouldn't have tried in her previous life and she wouldn't know either, especially not with her new Cores. Who knew what would happen! The Fiendfyre could end up being exponentially stronger and uncontrollable, she had no idea how to extinguish it. No, Fiendfyre was not her miracle solution.

Miracle solution... Well, she couldn't deny that she had one of those. She was a Parselmouth and she did have access to a Basilisk. Biting her lower lip, Hermione turned to stare out the window where she could see rain pouring, drops running down the glass window panes. Resting her forehead against the cool glass Hermione breathed out, causing the glass to fog up. It seemed to her that there was no more avoiding it. She needed to enter the Chamber of Secrets.

Shutting her eyes for a moment, Hermione focused on her breathing. Slowly, she straightened her body and nodded in determination. She wouldn't waste another minute. She knew that if she did, she would chicken out again. When the thought occurred to her, Hermione couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her as she fastened her cloak over her shoulders. It was no wonder the Hat hadn't placed her in Gryffindor this time around.

Hermione stood at the open entrance and knowing she was going to get dirty, she wore simple muggle jeans and a black tank top under her cloak. Hermione jumped before she could second guess her decision and tried to calm herself down as she slid to the bottom, ignoring the malicious giggling that she could here coming from Myrtle up in the bathroom.

Steeling her resolve, Hermione tried to convince herself that she wasn't afraid of seeing a snake tonight. She had after all found a few snakes trying to slither up her legs just this morning and it hadn't frightened her at all. Granted the size was going to be very different, and the one she was going to see could eat her whole or kill her with a glance, but they weren't that different, she tried to reassure herself.

Gathering her courage Hermione stepped forward, hoping she was going in the right direction and not getting lost in a maze of pipes. When she reached a closed door covered in a design of intertwined snakes Hermione knew she was in the right place. She had been here before after all. Except this time, what was waiting for her was not the remains of a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, but an empty Chamber. Opening the door and climbing down the short ladder, Hermione paused at the end, staring at the large statue of Salazar. _Merlin, I must be suicidal_. Hermione thought to herself. She, for a moment, couldn't believe she was _seeking out_ the Basilisk.

Making her way to the foot of the statue Hermione closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before calling for the snake. The snake shouldn't come if she wasn't truly the Heir of Slytherin. He would stay sleeping. He would ignore her. A part of her was praying he would, she really _shouldn't_ be doing this. But she needed its poison. And a part of her also wanted the undeniable confirmation, the proof that she truly was the Heir. And admittedly she was uncontrollably curious, she could learn so much about basilisks if this worked out.

"Curiosity killed the cat," she whispered to herself as she continued to wait for the creature.

Hermione was fed up after what felt like hours of waiting. She realized that the snake had been asleep for years, and she accepted the fact that he would need a few moments to wake up but this was on the verge of being ridiculous. She was certain Sleeping Beauty had woken up in a matter of minutes after having been asleep for centuries.

Hermione groaned as she glanced at her watch. She had been in the Chamber for over three hours. Obviously, the Basilisk was _not_ coming. She had been wasting her time. Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, Hermione pushed off of the ground, waving her wand to dry in cloak Hermione turned her back to the statue and started to walk away.

It was when she arrived at the centre of the hall that she thought she heard a sound. She paused, tilting her head and staring at a large marble snake head, waiting to hear it again. When she didn't, Hermione concluded that it had been in her mind and took a few more steps forward.

A loud noise of marble grinding against stone made Hermione freeze and her heart race. Slowly, Hermione turned and watched in amazed horror as the mouth of Salazar opened wide. Hermione waited, expecting the Basilisk to appear but still nothing happened when the mouth was as open as it could get. Trying to control her breathing Hermione turned her whole body to face the statue and waited. She could hear it, the sound of its scales rubbing against the ground, its hissing echoing inside the Chamber, reaching her ears.

Hermione shivered in fear and anticipation.

Somewhere deep down in the pipes, the fearsome creature was moving, finally awakening from its slumber, answering her call.

 **A/N: Tell me your thoughts. Share everything please! Constructive criticism if you have any is welcome.**


	14. Chapter 14: One Master

**A/N: As you saw: Chapter 14. You're gonna get to know our new friend Anguis, hear about amazing Delacour care products and read about Remus trying to figure out certain things. Enjoy it! Year two is almost finished. One or two more chapters left!**

 **Please tell me what you think! Sorry for mistakes, I re-read but I still miss so many! Constructive criticism is welcome! I always try to take into account your comments, and sometimes you guys have great ideas and recommendations.**

 **BTW thank you so much for all your support! You guys are amazing reviewers and I really appreciate the support!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

As soon, and Hermione realized this was a late reaction, as she saw something shift in the darkness of the mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her breathing was shaky and her whole body was trembling. The Basilisk was coming. It had obeyed her call. Hermione could no longer deny what she already knew. She was an Heir of Slytherin. She was the Heir of all four Houses. She was Merlin's _only_ Heir. The weight of this acceptance did not have time to fully crush her before she was distracted. Distracted by the wet, slightly warm and smooth _thing_ brushing against her.

Hermione gasped when the Basilisk pushed against her more forcefully, like a cat begging for attention. Terrified, but unable to resist, Hermione raised her hand and placed it against the snake's body. The creature's body was much warmer than she had expected as it wrapped around her. In this position, she knew the snake wouldn't even need to look at her to kill her, it would just need to tighten its body around her and squeeze the life out of her. But something told her it wouldn't. She was almost starting to feel calm as it continued to move around her.

"Hello," Hermione spoke, hoping it was in clear parseltongue.

 _Hello, Slytherin._ It replied, in a deep voice.

 _Oh, it's a male_. Hermione thought to herself.

"Do you have a name?" She inquired.

 _Anguis._

 _"_ How... original," Hermione said, shocked to hear sarcasm in her voice even in parseltongue.

 _My first Master, Salazar, was not concerned with originality._ The Basilisk informed her, his tone neutral every time he spoke. It was as if he felt no emotions, or could, perhaps, not express them.

"I suppose it's convenient, though, gets the message across," Hermione shrugged. "You're a snake, and Anguis is Latin for snake. As a basilisk, you cause a lot of anguish, which almost sounds like your Latin name," Hermione reflected. "Though anguish in Latin is _angustia_ , which isn't the same thing at all. It just-" Hermione stopped, realizing she was rambling due to her nerves.

 _Yes._ Was all Anguis hissed, unfazed by her obvious unease.

Hermione could feel the scales under her fingers, caressing circles over the part of its body closest to her.

 _You may open your eyes, Slytherin. I will not look at you._ Anguis informed her. _I will not harm my Master._

Hesitating, Hermione carefully opened her eyes, keeping them staring downwards, at her hands. "You're a beautiful colour," Hermione heard herself saying, without thought.

The snake's body tensed and Hermione could feel it preen at her compliment. Finally, Hermione raised her gaze and noticed Anguis' head turned determinedly away from her. This caused some of the tension to leave Hermione's body.

 _What will you have of me, Master?_ The snake questioned and Hermione for the first time in the conversation, heard intonation in the basilisk's voice.

Hermione licked her lips, readying herself for her request. "I need some of your poison."

 _Very well, Master._ Anguis agreed.

"Ah, um." Though she knew he would obey her due to her status as Slytherin's Heir, she had still not expected it to be so easy.

Hastily, Hermione grabbed the large vial in her pocket and uncorked it with practiced ease. Anguis released her from his hold almost reluctantly and allowed her to step forward, being sure to keep her out of his line of sight.

 _You will have to shut your eyes for this. I can not turn away from you when you face me._ The creature informed her.

This time, Hermione was the reluctant one, closing her eyes after seeing Anguis open his large jaw and seeing his long white fangs. She waited for him to approach her when he told her to stay put but still jumped in surprise at the feeling of his warm breath washing over her. Reaching out her hand to guide herself Hermione stepped forward, searching for him. Hermione resisted the urge to run when her hand made contact with what she suspected was the area between his two nostrils. She knew her supposition was correct when she slid her hand lower and touched one of his fangs.

Carefully, she ran her hand all the way down to the tip of the largest one and placed her vial on the tip of it. "Okay, it's ready," she breathed.

 _Do not move._ He told her.

Hermione barely inhaled oxygen while the vial collected his venom. She didn't even register when the snake slithered away, making sure to keep a part of his body still touching hers.

 _It is done._

Hermione knew this was the signal for opening her eyes and did so with less uncertainty than previously.

"Thank you. This will be very helpful," Hermione said, gratefully.

 _What is it for?_ Anguis inquired, a weird sort of very brief purr escaping him when Hermione unconsciously moved her hand back onto his body and rubbed small circles on his skin.

Staring at the vial, mesmerized, Hermione didn't think twice about answering. "I'm going to kill an enemy."

 _You don't need my venom for that. Give me his name and I will kill him._

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised, not having considered this as an option.

 _An enemy of the Heir is my enemy, it has been this way since my first Master._

Feeling an odd desire to be honest to the Basilisk, Hermione admitted the truth. "That wouldn't work. He's also an Heir of Slytherin."

Hermione almost dropped the vial in shock, her other hand snapping off of the basilisk and slapping against her mouth in horror. "Oh Merlin!"

Would that idiotic slip of the tongue be the cause of her downfall? Anguis had said himself that he wouldn't harm his Master. But if another Master of his was threatened, if another Heir of Slytherin's was in peril... Would he turn against the threat?

 _That is fine._ Was all he said.

"What?" Hermione was extremely confused.

 _You are my Master. I_ _do as you wish._ Hermione could visualize Anguis shrugging. An illogical visualization indeed, seeing as he had no shoulders.

"Truly? You would kill him even though he was a Slytherin?"

 _Yes. You are my Master._ He repeated, still in that toneless voice.

"What if he was your Master long before I ever became yours?" She demanded to know.

 _I can only have one Master, no matter how many Heirs exist._

"But he already came to you before me. He was your previous Master," Hermione clarified, not certain he was understanding her correctly.

Anguis seemed to think over her words. _You are referring to Tom Riddle._

"Yes," she agreed, despite it being a statement and not a question.

 _He sent me back to sleep. He relinquished his hold as my Master by doing so. You are my Master. I do as you request._

"Fascinating... Does that mean that if I sent you back to sleep right now, I would no longer be your Master?"

 _Yes. You would be giving up that title. You could only become my Master again if you were the one to wake me up again._

"How... Convenient for me," Hermione murmured, watching her fingers trail over the serpent's scales. "Oh, if Voldemort ever found out that someone like me stole his precious Basilisk! I would love to see his face when the time comes!" Hermione claimed, unable to stop a gleeful smile from breaking across her face at the thought.

"Anguis? Salazar Slytherin gave you a purpose, didn't he? He ordered you to fulfill a mission, yes?"

 _Yessss._ Anguis said dragging it out, sounding as if he hadn't spoken but simply hissed his confirmation.

"And Tom Riddle? He awoke you from your slumber for you to carry it out as well?"

 _Yesss_. The basilisk repeated.

"Would you still obey me if I told you to to go against both their orders?"

Anguis shifted under her hand, moving his head away from her to stare at the statue of his first master. _But, my only reason of living is to rid this place of Mudbloods._

"That can not be true," Hermione shook her head.

 _Salazar nursed me from the_ _moment I hatched. He told me why I existed in this world._

 _"_ Salazar lied to you! He took you so you would complete his wishes after he could not but you do not have to do it anymore, he is dead."

 _I am unsure._ Anguis informed her, his tone revealing nothing of his true feelings.

Hermione was quite glad that he was willing to express his emotions and thoughts aloud to her, otherwise she would have no idea how he was reacting to her words.

"You told me I am your only Master and that my wish was your command. I order you to not harm a single Witch or Wizard in this school, regardless of their bloodline," Hermione demanded, her voice trembling, every ounce of her fighting the need to give the order.

She truly did not want to be this creature's Master, he was alive, he had feelings and thoughts and he should not have to obey her commands. But this matter was far too important. She had to put the safety of others before her hatred for slavery and anything close to it. If ordering Anguis to go against his instincts of killing was the only way to save people like her without killing Anguis, then she would do it.

Anguis was tense as he slithered away from her to the feet of his first Master. His movements now were far from the graceful ones of only moments ago.

 _I do not understand. Salazar told me all his Heirs would want me to_ _complete this mission and that it was the One I could not avoid._

"Salazar did not know what he was talking about. He didn't ever expect one of his Heirs to be like me," Hermione paused, staring at the snake. "You must understand Anguis. I can not let you kill Muggleborns. Tell me you will obey my one command. Swear to me you won't harm anyone, ever, unless I ask you to."

 _Why? Why can I not do what I was meant to do?_

"Anguis, there are so many things you can do. You can go outside, live in the Forest if you want. Only as long as you don't hunt Muggleborns. _Please_ , I'm begging you," Hermione truly was begging now.

She had only known Anguis for a few hours but she knew that she wouldn't be able to kill him. He was a living creature. He was just following orders. The problem was, those just following orders could often be the worst kind. Hermione knew. She had been at the mercy of men just following orders. But they could also be lost, unsure and frightened. Just like Malfoy. Anguis was none of those things. He was simply misunderstood.

 _Please?_ Anguis spoke. _What is this please?_

"Please? It's just a word, used in polite conversation. It can be used to show urgency or emotion, like here. It's a way to convey how much I need you to accept my request," Hermione shrugged, closing her eyes when she saw him move. "I suppose, also, when using please, people are more disposed to accept."

Anguis came back to her side, once again wrapping himself around her. When she felt him against her, Hermione opened her eyes knowing she was safe. _What is your name?_

"Hermione Granger. People here call me Hermione Delacour, though."

 _Which do you prefer?_

"I'm not sure," Hermione sighed. "Last year I probably would have said Granger. But now? I am very much a Delacour now. I love Guillaume, he's my brother. But I can't deny... I'm afraid that by giving up my original family name, Granger, I'm giving up my friends and family. Friends I've planned on saving and that will never remember me. Friends that are dead and that are disappearing more and more every minute I stay here. It makes me worried that..." She chewed her bottom lip but shook her head. "You can choose either one."

Hermione knew that her Harry and her Ron no longer existed and never would. She had accepted that. But she didn't want to forget them.

 _It seems you have a mission to accomplish here._ Hermione nodded. _I will help you_ _fulfill your purpose and I will no longer hunt Mudbloods. From now on, I am yours, Hermione Granger._

"You chose Granger?" Hermione was slightly surprised, having thought he would opt for her name of this Time-line.

 _Indeed. It is so, that way, you won't forget your purpose here._

Hermione almost wanted to cry. How could such a terrifying and cruel creature be so in tuned with her thoughts and feelings? How could he be so kind? He truly was a misunderstood animal. Basilisks were carnivorous and could kill you with a glance, yes, but they didn't necessarily hunt humans. Basilisks killed humans, so it wasn't a good idea to go and cuddle with one if you came across one in the wild, but they weren't going to come after you just for the fun of it. Anguis only did so because he was told from birth that that was the only reason why he existed. He was brainwashed.

"You are an amazing creature, Anguis. Thank you for being willing to go against your original mission."

 _You are my Master._

Obviously this was all he needed and this justified everything for him. "Still, thank you Anguis. You might become a very useful ally in the War to come," Hermione paused, staring up at the face of Salazar. "You can go outside if you wish, but don't let yourself be seen, it could be dangerous. And don't go out during the full moons."

 _When should I return?_

"Don't worry Anguis. You don't have a curfew. Come back whenever you want. Come and go as you please."

 _Very well. Thank... You._ His last words were slow, as if he was unused to speaking them.

 _Hermione Granger._ He waited until he was certain to have her attention before continuing. _If you call me, no matter where I am, I will answer, I will come. We are bonded._ He reminded her, before disappearing inside one of the many pipe openings.

"Having a Basilisk as one of my allies will come in very handy, Salazar. I am much obliged for this possibility," Hermione thanked, still staring at the marble face of the great Founder. "Though I'm sure you'd be most displeased," Hermione smirked. "Who would have thought? I'm confirming your worst fears. I'm a Muggleborn, i've stolen multiple Pureblood Magical Cores including your very own Magic _and_ ruined your Master plan with Anguis. Oh, you must be rolling around in your grave."

Hermione shook her head, stepping away, towards the exit and pulling out her wand. She was going to need it to get out of here.

* * *

"Miss Delacour, am I correct?" A small voice said behind her.

Hermione stopped, smiling as she faced the pair behind her. "Oh, Regulus and Severus! What a surprise! Such a delight to see you here." She pushed her hair out of her face and tried to control her panting breaths. She had just been speed walking back to her dorm room, hoping to not get caught.

"What are you doing out at this hour?" Severus inquired.

"Ah well, you know, I was in need of fresh air," she replied with a jolly wave of her hand.

"Yes, because everyone goes looking for fresh air at 3 in the morning," Regulus commented, his tone dry.

"Hmmmmmm, everyone has their odd habits," Hermione breathed. "Though I don't think you have much room to judge, you both are also out and about," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"But you're a girl!" Regulus argued back, as if this made their situations incredibly different.

"And this is not the 19th century!" Hermione proclaimed, her voice sounding just as aghast as Regulus'.

"I think we can all agree, that none of us should be in the corridors at this hour, regardless of our gender," Severus interrupted, amused by the younger Black's old fashioned ideas. "I suggest we separate ways and forget those we crossed paths with."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that sounds like a reasonable plan."

The witch was just about to go on her way when a thought tickled the back of her mind. She paused. "Regulus," she practically whispered.

The boys stopped moving, waiting for her to speak. Hermione was trying to make her brain work faster, she could the two boys were getting impatient, she could see them debating the pros and cons of waiting for her to speak. But this was something Hermione had not thought of beforehand and she needed to see if over the years it would be viable. Finally, she decided she had nothing to loose.

"Regulus, I see you in the Library often," she told him. "You as well Severus," she added, dipping her head towards the other boy. "I was wondering if perhaps, one day, you would both like to join me at my table in the Library for a study session, from time to time."

The boys seemed confused by this sudden request but thought it over carefully nonetheless. Hermione Delacour was an excellent student and a Ravenclaw student. She was a Pureblood from a good, respectable family.

Both nodded. "Yes, one day a week we will join you," Severus answered, as a Slytherin he was not one to give half responses, filled with maybes and might bes, that could, at a later date, be misunderstood or manipulated.

Hermione grinned, wishing them a goodnight and heading to her room. Tonight had been a success. She had met and gained the loyalty of Anguis and she had contracted a studying routine with two very important Slytherins. As Hermione entered her dorm, she considered the fundamental changes she could make if she became friends with those two. It was a long plan. It was _extremely_ long-term. She needed to be friends with Regulus in order to make some of her plans in the future simpler. And Severus. Well, her friendship with him was self-explanatory, really.

She would have to be patient. In a few years, if she was successful, she would reap the rewards. And hopefully she would be gaining two loyal and real friends that she could trust and that would trust her. And more important than all that, two people she could save.

* * *

"You're looking better, Hermione," Remus observed, taking a seat in front fo Hermione at the back of the library.

"Yes, well, I was sick," Hermione replied with a careless wave of her hand.

"For over six months?" Remus questioned, his eyebrows raising.

"I was dealing with things, personal issues, Remus. All that's important is that I'm better!" Hermione practically snapped. "Did you notice my hair?"

Hermione flicked her hair, passing her hand under it and letting it fall over her shoulders. She was hoping he would let her change the subject so noticeably. The fact was Hermione didn't have the energy to tactfully and discretely switch the topic of discussion. She was overwhelmed with school work, trying to raise her marks and though she was well rested now, she was worried she would not succeed in getting all Os at the final exams.

"Lovely," Remus agreed, deciding to let her be. "It looked quite close to a birds nest these past few months. I was afraid you'd have to shave it all off."

"I thought so too! But my cousins, Clarice and Marine, they each sent me a bottle of some magical Delacour hair potion. They both mentioned my horrible hair from Christmas and commented on my complexion too, saying they would probably give me a skin Delacour potion over the summer. _Apparently_ , if I stayed the way I was before, I'd be ruining the Delacour reputation of having beautiful females," Hermione sighed dramatically. "It's all very vain and narcistic."

"Yeah, but does it really bother you?" Remus checked, a knowing smile gracing his lips.

"Normally, it would. But in the Delacour family, it's different. They're all gorgeous _and_ intelligent. They're a perfect mix of the two. If I can even come close to any of them during my life, I'd feel like I truly belong in the Delacour family. I mean, Marine might become Wizarding France's Vice-President! That's an incredibly important role!"

"Hermione, I have no doubt that you could become Vice-President of Wizarding France if you wanted to," Remus told her with a grin.

Hermione gave a half shrug and smiled. "Anyway point is, if I want be a true Delacour lady, I have to look the part and that seems to involve a _lot_ of care products, since Guillaume informed me they have mobilized two weeks of my summer holidays in order to introduce me with their "people", whatever that's supposed to mean, and show me how to use all the products they'll provide me with."

"Mmm, sounds like you're going to have fun! Keep me up-to-date with the torture, will you?"

"Of course," Hermione scoffed. "You think I'm going to suffer alone?! No, if I have to sit through hours of being picked and prodded, you're going to have to it through hours of reading my letters about it. And don't worry: my letters will be _very_ detailed."

Remus chuckled. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Leaning back in his seat, Remus fiddled with the page corners of one of her books, staring behind her, at the door to the Library, that he could just barely see through all the shelves.

"Hermione?" Remus spoke as he noticed a long-haired blonde entering the Library, his smile fading a little.

"Yes?" Hermione murmured, struggling to take her eyes off of the book she had gone back to reading.

"Do you believe in the creatures Pandora always talks about?"

"Without a doubt," Hermione nodded, still not looking up. "Pandora knows more things than she lets on and it's always because of her creatures. They're special, hard to discover and, oddly, often invisible but they exist. I believe most of the creatures she talks about do, though I can't deny that their are some that _might_ not exist. Still, after what I've seen, I'll always give her creatures the benefit of the doubt and I'll even believe they are real until I'm proven that they really are inexistent."

"Huh," Remus breathed, staring at the blond walking towards them.

"Hello," Pandora greeted, sitting next to Remus. "Are you both well?"

Yes and better, were the two replies she received. Pandora nodded. "Yes, I could tell. Especially you Hermione! Your Bligmys are back and your aura is much brighter than before. Those can only be good signs. There's something about you Hermione, it's like you're glowing. Something very good must have happened. Your aura is pulsing."

Hermione shot a pointed look at Remus as if to say 'See what I meant? She sounds crazy, but she _knows_ things'. Remus smiled back at his friend's look.

"Say, Pandora, I was wondering if you have any books on the creatures you're always talking about?" He inquired, his expression shy.

"I have many! They're hard to find, but my family and I always look for them whenever there's a bookshop. Though they're all in my room..." Dora added the last comment sadly, seeming very disappointed by the fact that she couldn't help a curious soul straight away.

"That's alright, you can lend me one next time we see each other."

"It would be a pleasure! So many people ignore creatures like Nargle's and such but they are extremely helpful when you know they exist and how to find them."

Suddenly Pandora stood up. "Come with me, Remus! I just remembered that there are two books in the Library that cover some of more 'mythical' creatures."

Taking his hand she dragged him a few aisle's down and slid her other hand over the books, looking for the correct ones. "Ah! Here they are," she exclaimed, pulling them out. "They don't go into the deepest details but they give you a general idea on a number of creatures."

"Thank you, Dora... Might I ask if either of these books talk about Bligmys?"

"Oh," Pandora grimaced as she glanced around, almost awkwardly. "Remus, I'm not sure it's the best idea you find out more about those."

"I could have sworn a few minutes ago you were over the moon about me wanting to learn more about the creatures you always talk about."

"Well, yes, and I still am! It's just, I've been thinking it over and I think it'd be best if nobody knew about what Bligmy's could mean. In fact, I even swore I wouldn't mention it in front of anyone else, except you, but that's only because I already mentioned them when you were around, so I couldn't change the fact that you knew about them. Though I was _hoping_ you wouldn't ask about them."

Pandora was chewing her lower lip raw in unease and Remus quickly put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her. "I would never hurt Hermione. She's my sister."

"I know that Remus, of _course_ I know! I've known since I first met you both! You're bound in a way few could understand. You're both marked by the same Alpha and I understand that that makes you unflinchingly loyal to one another. That's not the problem here, Remus. I'm worried about her safety. Few people believe in these creatures but if certain people found out about the Bligmys and what they meant, Hermione could be in incredible danger, even if it's just a possibility, rumour or hunch or whatever you want to call it. They wouldn't care, the reward of the possibility would be far too great to ignore."

Remus decided to ignore the fact that Pandora knew about his werewolf status. He was far from surprised. As Hermione had put it, Pandora simply _knew_ things. There was no point fighting it. "Don't you see? If I understand, I could protect her, help her."

Pandora shook her head. "As much as we'd like to, we're just children Remus. There's nothing we could do. We can't take this on."

"Hermione's taking it on, whatever ' _it_ ' is and she's a child as well," Remus argued.

Pandora frowned. "I'm not sure about that. Have you never noticed how she is sometimes? How mature she almost always is? How she gets this far away look in her eyes sometimes? How we'll say or suggest something and she'll get this sort of odd look in her eyes, a look that suggests she's tired with life and that she's been through too much to be amused by the prospect of doing something 'naughty'? That's not how children are supposed to be, Remus."

"You've observed her well," Remus spoke, dryly.

"Remus, I just want you to be sure you understand. Do you really want to find out? Are you ready to take this on? You have a choice."

"You've taken this on," Remus threw back at her.

"Not really. I know the possibilities that the Bligmy's suggest, but I haven't dug _deeper_. I haven't asked questions. And I know you well enough Remus to know that once you start, you won't be satisfied until you have all the answers. But you have to be ready to face the _realities_ of the answers, Remus and you might not like what you discover."

Pandora sighed, fluffing her hair and tapping her index finger on the top book in Remus' hands. "Whatever you decide, your first answers are in this one."

Remus watched the blond leave, feeling the turmoil growing, his indecision and curiosity gripping him tightly. Stronger than those feelings though, was the fear. Pandora made him afraid of knowledge. He walked slowly back to the table he was sharing with Hermione, his heart pounding. He was scared of what he might discover. Did he really want to find out what Bligmys were right away?

He watched Hermione as she put down her quill, her concentration lost, her gaze stuck on the bright blue sky outside, her left index finger twirling a lock of hair. He watched as she got lost in thought and noticed the very look Pandora had just described take over her face. It was true, she wore that expression often. If you didn't know what it was, you could think she was just lost in a daydream. Remus shook his head. Yes, he was afraid of what answers he might find, but he needed to do it. He needed to know why Hermione had this look on her face. And he needed to help her get rid of it.

Without waiting another second, he opened the book and searched for the page referring to Bligmys. He found it easily and read the page slowly, taking care to read every detail. Surprised, he looked up again at Hermione, who had gone back to her book and stared at her, his mouth agape. Confused, Remus ran his finger over the page and scanned the words he had just re-read five times.

 _Bligmys are attracted to those touched by Eo Tempore._ Yes, Pandora had told him as much.

 _Eo Tempore is the Latin term for Time._ He knew enough Latin to already know this.

 _To be touched by Time is a very vague notion and idea. One can not literally be_ touched _by Time._

So many theories and hypothesizes followed, but Remus only concentrated on two of the most interesting ones in his opinion.

 _God of Time. Time-Travel._

Though Remus was trying to be open minded towards Pandora's creatures, a God of Time seemed a bit _too_ far fetched in his opinion. that only left Time-Travel.

 _Time-Travel._ The words were echoing in his mind as he went back to staring at Hermione. Time-Turners were still in their stage of infancy in this time period. But if Hermione came from the future, and he suspected she did due to her creepy ways of knowing _everything_ , and she was worse than Pandora in that aspect because Hermione actually _knew_ whereas, Pandora, who, though she often knew as well, a more apt way to describe her was, suspecting. Yes, Remus had two very odd girl friends, one who _knew_ and the other who _suspected_. He'd never get away with anything.

Remus shook his head. He was digressing. The point was he had just discovered one of his friends might be a Time-Traveler. He should be concentrating on how to prove or disprove this hypothesis. To do so, he needed to know more about Hermione and Time-Travel. He couldn't be obvious and just ask her right out. She would run away if he did it that way. He needed to be sly, discrete and cunning. Remus squared his shoulders. He could do this and forcing a grin on his face, Remus asked her about her family, his blood rushing through his ears, almost drowning out his own words.

"So, Hermione, you always talk about your brother, but what about the rest of your family?"

Hermione's body froze, her eyes snapping up to Remus, her expression suspicious. S _o much for tact,_ Remus thought as Hermione stared on. Rolling her eyes Hermione realized she was being silly. This was _Remus_. He didn't have a hidden agenda. Still the question had been so random and sudden and his smile appeared forced. Hermione shook her head, he was probably just in need of conversation, bored.

And so Hermione talked and was truthful in her storytelling, only omitting unmentionable details but forgetting one very important detail. She spoke of her wonderful childhood. Her loving parents. Her obsession, even as a little girl, for reading and the enjoyment she took from surprising and frightening her parents with her Magic. Her amazing trips and adventures. And then, more somber, the murder of her parents. Moving in with Guillaume. The awe and wonder at discovering she was a witch. Discovering Hogwarts.

It was as she was explaining her feelings when coming to Hogwarts that something clicked with Remus. Though she had ordered her story correctly, there was one detail, a rather _big_ one at that, that just didn't fit. Hermione was a Delacour. Remus remembered reading about the death of her parents, her _Magical_ parents, in the Daily Prophet. Hermione was still chatting away as Remus got lost in his contemplations. In fact, thinking back, he couldn't remember Hermione being mentioned in the article.

Remus, these thoughts swimming in his mind, focused his gaze back on Hermione and frowned. Her parents that had been murdered were very much _Magical_ , so why was she talking about _Muggle_ parents? Exactly which parents was Hermione talking about?

He decided to ask. "Hermione? You're a Delacour, right? So how come your parents didn't know about Magic?"


	15. Chapter 15: Revealing the truth

**A/N: Alright so I had had some amazing reviews for the past few chapters and I just have to say, you guys are amazing! You are the reason I keep writing! Well you and one other reason! Anyway, I had a lot of pertinent reviews for the last chapter! Thank you all! Also, thank you to roon0 who reviewed on almost every chapter! I'm always glad for new** **readers! I found myself replying to quite a few reviews, which I don't usually do... But interesting remarks or questions must be answered! I'm grateful to everyone who follows or favourites as well!**

 **One of which was questioning the personality I gave the Basilisk... Well, I have to say I'm sure others have had the same thought of: 'The Anguis was just a bit _too_ nice for a Basilisk.' All I have to say is: Just you wait and see. (BTW that is in no way a spoiler because you have no idea what you have to wait and see for... Maybe I'm just teasing you with false ideas and hopes... HAHA! You'll have to be patient.)**

Oh... She had walked straight into that one, hadn't she? It was just that, being Muggleborn was an integral part of her identity. Her hand twitched, brushing against the cover on her left forearm. Well, she would just have to go with it.

"Yes... Um... The truth is I was adopted into the Delacour family by Guillaume. He made me a Delacour. But by birth- by birth and by blood I am not a Delacour. When my parents were murdered, my real parents, not the Delacour couple, Dumbledore thought it would be best if I went into hiding, so he created a back story for me. He got Guillaume to go along with it for my protection," Hermione paused, nervously hoping he would accept her explanation. It was the closest thing to the truth as she had ever said. "Remus, I hope you'll forgive me for lying to you but I had no choice. Telling people the truth would only put me and others in danger!"

Remus reached out and grabbed her hand, holding onto it tightly. "Are you really in danger, Hermione?" She had admitted as much but he didn't want it to be true.

"Yes, Remus and if I tell you too much, you will be as well."

"Hermione please just tell me, are you hiding from that man, that Dark Lord? I've heard of him only a few times but I understand enough to know he hates Muggleborns."

Hermione shook her head. "He's a monster Remus, of the worst kind. Even Greyback is more of a human than that _thing._ "

Remus' eyes widened. Worse than Greyback who rejected most of his human traits, was that even possible?

"But don't worry about me, Remus. I'm safe here in Hogwarts. Nobody I don't trust knows the truth. I'm safe," she added, again, as if trying to reassure herself just as much as him.

Remus licked his lips and shifted closer to the small girl. "Is there anything else? Anything else you're hiding and that you can trust me with?"

Hermione stared at Remus with a sad smile and lifted her hand to his cheek, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. "Remus, the more I tell you, the more in danger you are. I trust you. But I can't put you in that position."

"I want to help you Hermione! You're my sister!" Remus pressed, his tone urgent.

"You've always been such a sweet person. You care about others far more than yourself," Hermione sighed, looking away from him and dropping her hands to her sides.

She shook her head as she gathered her books and put them in her satchel. "Why do you _insist_ on asking questions, Remus? Why don't you listen to Pandora? You're only twelve. And you've never been the sneaky kind Remus... Honestly, you think I didn't notice what you were reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, Remus spread his arms over the book, trying to hide it from his friend. "It's too late, I've already seen it... So why don't you just come right out and ask it? I would much rather you be straight forward with me. Dancing around the subject is not something I have the patience for," Hermione let her anger take over.

Frowning Remus did the only thing he could think of and the very thing she was telling him to do. "Are you a Time-Traveller?" When the words left his mouth, Remus winced.

It sounded so juvenile and ridiculous. She must think him so silly, asking such a question. What was he thinking? There was no way someone as young as her could be a traveller from the future! Remus felt like face-palming and was just about to when Hermione spoke.

"Yes," she shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

Remus felt like he was being mocked by one of his best-friends. If she truly was a Time-Traveller, she wouldn't just admit it all of a sudden. She had spent the past year and a half hiding it. What a waste for Hermione to just admit it so suddenly, simply because he asked a question. But Hermione was resigned and figured there was no point in lying. She had screwed up on a very important detail and he had already figured it out by reading Pandora's book. She could obliviate him, yes, but it would be no use. He had already figured it out with his twelve year old mind. He would easily figure it out again with a more developed mind in years or months to come.

Remus, wanting to check if she was just playing with him, pushed on. "Why did you come here?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to go back to the future?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Never."

"Wha-? Why?" Remus demanded, incredibly confused by her firm answer. Why would she, or anyone for that matter, want to stay stuck in the past?

"Because I've already lived my future, _that_ future," she corrected. "Once. I don't want to go back to that life."

Still Remus couldn't understand and he told her so. "Why don't you want to go back to your life? To the people, the _time_ you know?"

"Everyone I knew and could count on there was dead. All that awaits me there is death."

Remus felt a shiver pass through him and shut his eyes. "Did you know me in the future?" He suspected she did due to her knowledge of his secrets but he wanted to be sure.

"Yes," Hermione said, tilting her head as she continued looking at him. "You died quickly. As did your wife. Your son was safe, last I heard," she shrugged, her eyebrows flicking upwards briefly. "Though, in all honesty, people didn't stay safe for long in my time so chances are he was dead, just like you."

Hermione knew she was being cruel, her words violent and abrupt but she was annoyed with her friend. Why was he insisting on finding out more and why had he attempted to trick her into admitting it? Why couldn't he be like Pandora, accept there was something off about her and leave it at that? She could see fear cross his eyes, whether it was from the thought of being married with a son or the thought of being dead, Hermione didn't know.

"When you ask questions, Remus, you have to be prepared for the answers," Hermione informed him, her tone cold. "The sooner you understand that, the better. Don't ask anymore questions until you're ready."

Without another word Hermione left the Library, leaving behind a frozen Remus. Perhaps he should have listened to Pandora. She was right. This was not something he should involve himself in. It was obviously much darker and complicated than he had expected. But, he was already inevitably involved: Hermione was his sister and he felt an uncontrollable need to protect and help her. Even if it went against his flight instinct. Then again, he wasn't a Gryffindor for no reason.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore did not seem to be surprised when he walked into his office to find Hermione waiting there for him. He merely smiled and nodded, his eyes twinkling knowingly.

"How may I be of service, Miss Delacour?" Taking a seat and eating a sherbet lemon.

"I need to know, what should I do, Sir, if anyone ever began to suspect my situation or even guessed the truth? Should I deny it? Should I obliviate them or admit to the truth?"

"I think it depends on who the person is. After all, here we do not need to worry about you disrupting the time line, but we need to be careful that what you know is not revealed to the wrong people. Voldemort would kill everyone in his path if he ever found out about you. I believe that so long as you know you can trust the person with your life and those of others, than you can tell them, but be sure to keep the number limited: the people who know are at risk," he paused and glanced at Hermione. "Forgive me for my thinking aloud, Dear, but after all that I would conclude that if you trust the person without a doubt, you can tell them."

"Truly? You really think that there's nothing wrong?"

"Not at all. As long as you have no trace of doubt."

"No doubt?"

"No doubt," Dumbledore affirmed, his voice certain.

* * *

Hermione was angry with him. He noticed. His friends noticed. Her friends noticed. Regulus and Severus noticed. Everyone noticed. It first became evident to Remus when Hermione entered the Library the next morning, looked right at him and then sat with Regulus and Severus, who were often joined by Lily as well. It then became evident to the two boys when Hermione started sitting with them every day following that in the Library. Soon, it was obvious to everyone. Remus quickly grew frustrated, he could not reach her and a part of him wondered if he truly wanted to, her last words... Her last words kept echoing in his mind.

 _You died... As did your wife..._ And his son, too? Remus had never even considered the possibility of having a family of his own one day but now that he knew that it had happened in her time gave him a sense of hope. But it would only be ripped away from him because of- he didn't even know why. She hadn't told him why, just that no one was safe in her time.

As for the Muggleborn witch, she couldn't decide if she was angry at Remus for asking questions and, more importantly, trying to be sneaky about it or if she was mad at herself for not having used her brain for a few seconds and thought up a way around admitting the truth. If she had been smart she may have been able to redirect Remus in the wrong direction. There was no way she could have known if he would have followed her redirection though and she would have been left wondering, whereas now she knew for certain that Remus knew. With Dumbledore's accord she had decided she would tell him but she wasn't going to do it until he apologized and came seeking for more. She had told him to leave her alone until he was sure he wanted answers, so when he was ready, he would come find her.

She was at least hopeful that she could trust him not to tell anyone else without her permission, even if she was currently ignoring him. He understood what it was like to have a heavy secret. But Hermione was still afraid: what if he decided to tell his friends? The Marauders were not known for keeping secrets from one another. Hermione could not come to a decision on whether or not she should approach him about that. If he refused, Hermione knew that worst case scenario, she could use blackmail to keep him silent. If it came to that, it would most likely be the end of their friendship, but it was a sacrifice Hermione would have to make; she could not allow the wrong people to find out about her situation.

After a month of Hermione avoiding him, Remus cracked. He understood his mistake now. He shouldn't have pried and he shouldn't have tried to trick Hermione but he didn't regret getting answers. Now, he would be able to understand better and he could help her. However, he still didn't understand what was the cause for Hermione avoiding him so determinedly.

Making up his mind that this avoidance could go on no longer, he finally succeeded in intercepting the witch after one of her Astronomy lessons. He grabbed her arm and held on tightly so as to stop her from fleeing.

"What are you _doing_ , Remus?" Hermione whispered through clenched teeth.

"Trying to talk to you!" Remus snapped back.

"Listen Remus, I don't think we have _anything_ to say to one another at the moment!"

"Are you joking?!" Remus exclaimed in shock, quickly shaking his head. "No, _you_ listen to _me._ Alright? You've been avoiding me for a month and for what? Because I asked questions on who you were and where you were from? As one of your best friends I think I have a right to know those things!"

Hermione quickly muttered a privacy spell and waved her wand before any lingering ears could hear what could be a very revealing discussion while Remus reprimanded her.

Said witch's head snapped up at his final words to stare at her friend in absolute rage. "I'm not mad you asked and figured it out. You're one of the smartest people I know, you were bound to figure it out one day, though admittedly I wasn't expecting you to know quite so soon. I'm mad at myself for not finding a good excuse. Mostly, I'm furious you tried to _trick_ me! What was going through your mind Remus?! What in your right mind made you believe that was the right way to go about it? Do you know how betrayed I felt by you tricking me?" Hermione whisper yelled at the werewolf.

"Betrayed?! I'm the one you've been lying to for the past two years!" Remus defended himself.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "I've been in this time for almost two years and you want to know how many people know the truth? _Four_! Dumbledore and McGonagall because they _found_ me here, Pomfrey because she was the one to _heal_ me when I got thrown back in this time and Aberforth, my chosen confident and advisor! Do you want to know who doesn't know? Adrian, a boy who was my friend long before you were in this time. Pandora, a girl who has probably figured out the truth but won't bring it up out of respect for my privacy. Guillaume, my _brother_ , for Godric's sake! My very own adopted brother doesn't know! Not only that, but even the Minister of Magic doesn't know and he was technically the first person who should have been informed. Do you not understand how _dangerous_ it is for people to know about me? Not only for my safety but everyone's? When people know about me, they are immediately at risk.

"The fewer people know about me the better. I know things Remus. Time didn't choose to send back just some random victim of war, Remus, it picked me, one of the people who knew the most about the War and how to end it. I wasn't just a victim, I was a member of the Resistance and if the wrong people were to get access to all the knowledge inside my head, they could use what I know in order to destroy the world we live in."

"The war you were fighting, who was it against?" Remus inquired, timidly.

"Voldemort," Hermione stated and continued at Remus' confused frown. "He hasn't made the news too much yet, due to _things_ , but back in my day, his name was already starting to be widespread at this moment in time. But I think you might of heard of him as the Dark Lord for now?"

"Those _things_ you're talking about, are they you?"

Hermione tilted her head, throwing a look that clearly said 'What do you think?'.

"I'm sorry for trying to trick you into admitting the truth and for pushing you and for stressing you. I didn't mean to. That day, I didn't even completely believe you were a Time-Traveller until you confirmed it, it sounded so silly in my opinion... Though, I have questions about somethings you've said? You don't have to answer if you get uncomfortable."

"I'll say pass if I don't want to," Hermione accepted.

"You said I was dead in your time but seemed to know a lot about me. Did we meet?" He wanted to know.

"Oh yes, you were my Defense Professor during my third year. One of the best if I might add, though I suppose the one after you taught us a lot but I don't think he counts since he was only a man posing as the Professor he had kidnapped and held hostage for a year," Hermione murmured, leaning her head against the wall as they spread themselves out on the steps leading up the Astronomy tower, facing one another.

Remus decided he didn't have the patience to figure out that story and moved on. "If I was your Professor, we mustn't have been close," he commented, curious.

"After you resigned we stayed in contact because you were member of a c _lub_ that my friends and I were trying to join. Though, you were closer to my friend Harry than me. You always had a soft spot for him."

"Who was Harry?"

He observed as a sad smile pulled at her lips. "My best friend, probably one of the bravest and most noble men I'll ever meet. He didn't have a good life nor a hopeful one, but he always saw the best in people and had faith in them."

"What happened to him?" Remus asked, softly.

"He died."

"Why exactly did I have a soft spot for him?"

"He was the only son of some of your close friends," Hermione shrugged.

This made Remus wonder about his friends. "What about my friends? James? Sirius?"

"I never actually met James, but everyone always talked about him."

"Why didn't you meet him?"

"He was dead," Hermione admitted, trying to stay as emotionally detached as she could, having to talk about the dead was never easy, even when those people weren't dead yet, or even born.

"James?" Remus breathed, tears prickling his eyes. "And what about Sirius?" He asked, clearing his clogged throat.

"Sirius was... A completely different man from this time. You probably wouldn't even recognize him if you were to meet the Sirius I knew. He suffered a lot for thirteen years and just when things were starting to look up for him, he died."

Remus was starting to despair, almost all his closest friends were dead in Hermione's time but he still had one hope. "Peter?" Remus heard his slightly hopeful intonation when he spoke the name.

Maybe, just maybe one of his friends had survived. However, even lost in his small bubble of hope Remus noticed the steel grow in her eyes at the mention of Peter.

"I met him a few times. He was was killed," Hermione's voice was hard.

Remus noticed the difference in her voice. When she had talked about the other deaths, Hermione's voice had been soft but when talking about Peter her face had been emotionless and her voice cold. This peeked Remus' curiosity.

"Hermione? Why do you speak of Peter like that? Why do you look like that?"

Hermione shook her head and removed the look from her face. "Lets just say he accepted a gift he should have refused."

"Was the gift the cause of his death?"

Hermione looked down at her right hand that was hovering mid-distance from her knees and ran the tips of her left hand fingers over it, turning it over slowly, imagining a silver hand in the place of her flesh hand. "You should never trust rats," she murmured.

Remus pursed his lips, trying to make sense of her words. Had he received a rat as a present? Did it have something to do with his hand? Had the rat been the cause of Peter's death? Just as Remus was going to ask for details, Hermione met his gaze.

"Don't worry, you'll understand in a few years. Three I think? When you see a rat, I hope you remember my words. I might reveal a lot, but this, you can figure out on your own," Hermione smirked. "But I won't let the same thing happen twice."

 _You'll get what's coming to you, Wormtail._

"So you're changing the past? I've done my time-travel research: isn't that against the rules?"

"In normal circumstances? Yes. You should know, Remus, if you've read about time-travel, that all the laws of Wizards and of Nature are against travelling too far back."

Remus nodded, trying to recall all the theoretical texts he had read in an attempt to understand his friend better. "Right and you can't travel farther back then your date of birth because chances are you'd be zapped out of existence... and all Time-Turners are built, granted there's only about one created so far, with that in mind so special spells preventing anyone from travelling farther back then a day are put in place," Remus frowned. "Then how in the world are you here? Did you find a way to bypass the spells put in place? You must be born already, isn't it odd knowing there are two of you in the world?"

"There's only one of me Remus. I haven't been born yet."

"Really? But that's... just... not..."

"Not possible?" Hermione interrupted. "Apparently it is. But I suspect it's only possible for me because I wasn't sent back using a Time-Turner."

"You weren't? Then how did you end up here?"

Hermione scrunched up her nose as she thought about that. "I have no idea," she murmured, deciding to leave out Merlin and the Founders for now. "I got sent back in the midst of battle. I was standing on a source of an ancient and very complex Magic: my guess is that that is what sent me back but why to now and how, I haven't figured out yet. Though Dumbledore believes that we shouldn't worry ourselves with the how but more with the why."

Hermione licked her lips as she thought about it. "You see, since I travelled to a time where I don't exist yet, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to go back because my time doesn't exist anymore. With everything that I've done here I might not even be born."

"Then how are we talking right now?" Remus inquired. "If you're not born, you won't ever stand on the Magic that sent you back."

"I've decided to not dwell on that too much. Dumbledore thinks I was sent here for a reason and after what I've discovered during my time here, I'm tempted to agree with him. Has the thought crossed my mind that I might disappear once my purpose fulfilled? Yes, I have because, despite everything Dumbledore and Aberforth have told me, I still don't believe I belong here. How could I? I technically don't even have a birthday," Hermione giggled at her last comment.

Remus' frown was back full force at her words until suddenly he brightened. "When did you arrive here?"

"Sometime during the summer... in August. The 15th I would think."

"Perfect! So we'll say you turned twelve on the 15th of August? That makes you younger than me! I turned 12 in March last year!" Remus exclaimed, cheerfully.

"I'm 12 again... Oh Salazar, that feels quite odd."

" _Salazar?!_ You were a Slytherin in your past life? And how old were you before?"

"I was actually a Gryffindor. And I was 17 when I was sent back."

"17?" Remus paused thinking it over. "Makes sense, that's why you're so sensible all the time," he shrugged. "I still say you're younger then me."

"If it makes you happy," Hermione laughed before crawling across her step and settling herself next to Remus. "I'll do everything within my power to prevent my future from happening," she whispered, her eyes falling shut.

* * *

For the hundredth time since she had come into possession of the tiara Hermione sat on the floor, staring at the half unwrapped Horcrux. Once again she found herself unable to destroy it. Everytime she thought herself ready to tip the vial of Anguis' venom over the vile object, something would stop her. Hermione suspected the Horcrux was the cause of this problem, but could nevertheless not stop it from happening, no matter what she told herself nor how she prepared herself.

Who was she to rid the world of such a historic artifact? It was Rowena's jewel and creation, only she had the authority to get rid of it. Voldemort had defiled it, though, and as a Ravenclaw Heir, even an unintended one, it was her duty to destroy it. Still, Hermione's hand trembled with effort as she unstoppered the bottle. Every cell in her body was fighting against her orders. It was wrong, she was making a mistake.

Hermione paused. It was a mistake. Surely she could find a way around it. The tiara, it was so magnificent that it would be such a shame. Her free hand came up to touch the crown and traced the tips of her fingers over it, feeling a frightening pleasure at the touch. Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she only just realized that the tiara was half way to her head. Jerking it away from her, it flew to the floor, releasing a high pitched shriek. Hermione gave herself a short moment to thank Merlin that she had remembered to place silencing spells and containing wards around her before wrenching the vial of venom over the diadem and tipping it.

The Horcrux squealed, clouds of Dark Magic escaping from the tiara in a last bid to attack its offender. Hermione screamed as the energy surrounded her, pulling and tearing at her. For a moment, all Hermione could see was darkness, all she could feel was pain and absolute terror. With a final cry from Hermione the Magic dissipated. Gasping for breath Hermione trying to move her trembling body away from the burnt mess left on the carpet where the disfigured diadem lay. Gathering her strength Hermione stood on trembling legs and ran out of her room, bumping straight into Rachel, one of her dorm mates.

"Hermione! What's the matter?" Rachel asked, concern pouring out of her.

Hermione's gaze was frantic as she searched the Common Room, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Adrian? Adrian is here?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, he went down to the lake with Pandora."

Hermione tried to compose herself, controlling her shaking body and nodded. "Alright, nevermind."

"I was just about to meet a few of the girls- you know from our dorm- at the Ravenclaw courtyard, the grassy one? Do you want to join us?" Rachel offered.

Hermione was just about to refuse when a thought struck her. "I could use the distraction, thanks, it'll be nice," Hermione accepted.

Rachel grinned, pleased that Hermione was agreeing to hang out with her and the other girls. Walking through the halls together the girls kept up a steady stream of conversation never once falling into awkward silence. When they reached the courtyard, filled with students of all houses, Hermione followed Rachel to the group of giggling Ravenclaw girls, all of whom welcomed the pair warmly and handing them spare bottles of Pumpkin Juice.

As Hermione sat with them, trying to keep track of the discussion, she realized that the Horcrux was wrong: she wasn't making a mistake nor wasting her time. She was doing this to save them from a horrible future, she was doing this to save herself from a horrible future, a horrible future she had already lived. Thinking back Hermione couldn't recall a single Hogwarts year that hadn't been filled with fear and worry for her life and those of her friends. But here, in this time, while she knew what she had to do, she still arrived at Hogwarts without the fear of what was to come hanging over her head and terror twisting at her insides. She arrived happy. And she would do everything she could to ensure that the girls around her remained the same giggling girls they were at this very moment.

* * *

The month and a half following the destruction of her first Horcrux went by quickly, Hermione succeeding outstandingly in all her courses. Hermione stood from her seat and smiled at Pandora and Adrian.

"I'll be back in a few. I just have to do something," Hermione excused herself, waving the envelopes and small pouch at her friends.

The two nodded and let her be as she exited the compartment. Hermione beamed at Xenophilus who was approaching the compartment she had just vacated, moving aside to let her pass. Hermione strolled through the train searching for her targets and sighed when she found her first one. She tapped the window on the door before sliding it open.

"There's no point in knocking if you're not going to wait for the authorization to come in," Sirius snapped. "Something you wouldn't have gotten," he added under his breath.

Hermione pointedly ignored him and faced Remus. "I thought of you, Remus," she said joyfully, waving the pouch in the air. "Here is your stock for the summer! I wish I could give you more but it's just such a volatile potion to brew, not more than a certain amount can be brewed at once otherwise you risk a terrible accident!"

"It's fine Hermione, just having this is a miracle, I don't care if I have to be supplied it every few months," Remus reassured her.

"Yes well, I think he's almost at the finishing stages. In a few years he should be making it public!"

"How long do 'finishing stages' take? 10 years?" Sirius demanded in a tone that clearly showed he thought it was ridiculous to take so long.

"Not that I'd expect you to understand but yes it does, if you want to be sure you don't kill people with poison instead of helping them," Hermione snipped, flicking her hair at him. "Anyway, I'll be going now. I hope you all have a wonderful summer!"

Hermione quickly left that group and continued her search, hoping to find her last targets soon because she was getting tired of wandering. When she found them, Hermione didn't even bother with knocking and flopped down in a seat opposite them.

"Please, make yourself at home," Severus spoke sarcastically.

"Oh please Severus," Hermione snorted, with a roll of her eyes. "Where is Lily?"

"How should we know?" Regulus questioned.

"I was only asking because she usually rides home with Severus," she shrugged. "Never mind that. I came here to give you these!"

She leaned forward excitedly as she handed them each an envelope. "What are these?" Severus inquired, eyeing the paper as if it would devour him whole.

"It's my address! So that you can write me! Both of you," Hermione precised, with a meaningful frown. "I'm serious. I'll be expecting letters from both of you! We've been spending all year studying together, with Lily, and I consider you both my friends," she claimed.

"Yes, well, that would be very one-sided," Regulus stated, sneering at the folded parchment in his hands.

Hermione would have been offended if she hadn't spent so much time with him during the year and discovered that that was just the way he was, and if she hadn't seen him slip the paper in his pocket. "I'll be waiting for your letters nonetheless. Enjoy yourself during the break! And rest well! Next year will be extremely busy!"

The brunette skipped off to rejoin her original compartment. She had no idea what was in-store for her next year but she doubted it would have anything to do with an escaped Azkaban mass murderer trying to break into Hogwarts.

 **A/N: So... End of year two! Just a heads up, there probably won't be a chapter for the summer... Because honestly, I haven't planned to write one but then again, I never know where inspiration takes me! Please tell me what you thought! And constructive criticism or pointing out errors, I was grateful for them last chapter!**


	16. Chapter 16: Time of change

**A/N: Year Three** **people! So before I start I just want to thank you all for your reviews! Says-the-Slytherin: Thank you for reviewing and don't worry about it! I can relate, most of the time. And Kayla DeLana: it's always such a pleasure to read that! Finally, BlueRagingFire: you make an excellent point! I realize that I cut out the scene where the boys ask about what Hermione is dealing, but Remus has explained the situation to his friends. So while they don't know what exactly it is, they know it's to help Remus during the full moon.**

 **While I can't comment on all the reviews, I still appreciated the others! Thank you!**

 **Disclaimer: You know who owns what.**

 **Enjoy! Please read and review this small introductory chapter!**

"Hogsmeade outings!" Adrian exclaimed, joining his friends in their train compartment.

"Excited, are you?" Hermione smirked, placing her book on her lap.

"Yes! Come on, it's what every Hogwarts student under third years waits for!"

Hermione shrugged, flipping her page over to continue reading. "I'm not sure I'll be going."

"Why ever not?" Pandora inquired as she moved her potted dirigible plums bush off her lap and onto the seat next to her. "Did you not get the permission slip signed in time?"

Hermione sighed, dropping her book back into her lap and rolling her head to look out the window. "No, the slip is signed... It's just - I'm uncomfortable with the idea of- ah, it's silly, ignore me."

"Tell us, we won't judge," Adrian encouraged.

"I don't like the idea of being so vulnerable to attacks," she admitted.

"Attacks? We're not in a war!" Adrian claimed.

"Not yet," Pandora agreed. "But Hermione's not completely wrong, have you not been reading the news?"

Hermione shut her eyes for a moment. Despite her best efforts attacks were still happening. While all the ones she knew about were being prevented, Voldemort, apparently enraged by being hindered in his plans, had also been attacking unexpectedly over the summer. Hermione expected this would continue until the end and felt some guilt at saving the lives of some while inadvertently killing others. She supposed that she could, in no way save everyone's lives but she still felt in some part guilty. Perhaps in her timeline those people had still been alive.

"I don't know, I'm just worried that one of those attacks will happen in Hogsmeade," she admitted. "I suspect it will be a natural next step one day. We mustn't forget that Hogsmeade is the only all-wizarding village in Britain. That's a big deal."

"You can't live the rest of your life afraid, Hermione," Adrian argued.

Hermione raised her hands. "Just because I don't want to head face first into a possibly dangerous situation by going to Hogsmeade, a location that could be targeted for attacks, does not mean I'm living afraid," she proclaimed, walking to the door and freezing as she finished. "Oh. No. Okay, I heard it right there. You're _right_ ," she huffed and turned nodding exaggeratedly, frustrated at the fact that they were correct. "Alright, if I have free time on the Hogsmeade weekend, I will accompany you there."

With that Hermione left, wandering two compartments down to find Severus, Regulus and Lily, the last two pointedly ignoring one another. Greeting them all Hermione sat next to Regulus, seeing as Severus and Lily were immersed in a book.

"So, Regulus, have you an excuse for making me wait a month before sending me a letter?" She teased, hoping to make the boy relax as he glared at the redhead.

"Consider yourself lucky that I wrote you at all," he claimed, staring daggers at the other female in the compartment.

"You answer me and yet I feel that you aren't paying attention to me," Hermione commented. "What do you have against Lily?"

"What do I- For starters, the simple fact that she is here!" He hissed.

"Merlin, I forgot about all that," Hermione huffed, blowing her hair out of her eyes. "Stupid of me really. It's part of the whole reason you and Sirius end up not speaking and hating each other after all."

"What did you say?" Regulus snapped, turning his glare full force on his friend, though he refused to call her by that label.

Hermione grinned, patting his cheek. "Oh, nothing, you're not quite ready to hear what I have to say," she told him, trying to imagine his reaction to her revealing she was a Muggleborn.

It wasn't that she was lying to him, only that she had introduced herself as a Delacour - which wasn't a lie, officially she _was_ a Delacour, just not by blood - and like everyone, he had assumed she was a French pureblood from a prominent family. In fact, if she thought about it, only Remus knew the truth about her blood status.

So Hermione preferred to think of it not as lying but omitting the truth. Hermione realized that was just as bad and she knew she would be furious if someone was omitting the truth from her on important information. However, she couldn't change the fact that she needed Regulus to grow close to her and trust her. He was essential to her plans. If that meant withholding private details about her origins from him then so be it. The time would come for her to be truthful, but only when he was older and disillusioned from the pureblood lies.

Regulus brushed her hand off his face and turned back to the duo in front of them. "Are you all excited to be going back to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, her question not aimed towards anyone in particular.

"Of course," Lily said, shifting in her seat. "Though I must admit I'm not eager to see Potter and Black again."

"Surely, they'll let you be this year?" Hermione tried.

Severus snorted. "Why? Do you believe they've outgrown their stupidity during the summer?" He asked, snidely.

Hermione pressed her lips together as she slowly shook her head, releasing a loud sigh. "Wishful thinking I suppose... Perhaps in a few years."

Standing up, Hermione wiped her palms on her thighs and observed the trio. "I do hope we'll be taking up the same rhythm as last year for our studying in the Library?" She finished her thought as a question, waiting for one of them to answer.

"Yes," Regulus agreed.

As much as he was displeased with Lily being around, he couldn't deny that studying with her was beneficial to him and as a Slytherin, he wasn't willing to get rid of her until he no longer had any use of her. Smiling, Hermione left, a small skip to her step and, spying a sign for the restrooms, went in that direction to change.

It was when she came out of the girls lavatory that Hermione stopped to take in the view of the mountains rolling by and the river flowing along the train tracks. For a few minutes Hermione simply stood there, unmoving and enjoying the peaceful view until someone bumped into her from behind, an arm wrapping around her waist to prevent her from falling.

"So sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," the cracking voice of Sirius Black sounding from behind her.

Hermione shoved his arms away from her and turned to face him. " _Delacour_? It's you," he uttered, his face appearing bored. "Didn't recognize you."

"Please, contain your excitement," Hermione fake gushed. "It's embarrassing."

Sirius stared at her with a frown as he replied. "The embarrassment is me being seen with you. It can only _improve_ your reputation."

"Doubtful," she said, her tone apologetic. "My IQ is falling just by talking with you."

She knew that was false because, as infuriating as it was, he had close to perfect grades without even trying. All he did was fool around and yet he still got Es and Os on his exams.

Sirius seemed to forget how to respond as he dragged his gaze over the girl in front of him, squinting at the top of her head. " _What_ happened to you hair?"

"I don't see how that should interest you," she commented, eyeing Sirius as if he was a new specimen she had never come across before.

In truth, he looked different: he was taller, lanky, his hair longer and his voice was cracking noticeably. He was decidedly awkward looking, and far too gangly to be attractive but still somehow succeeding at holding onto his cuteness from the last too years. Hermione's eyebrows rose as she understood what she was seeing. She was currently looking at a pubescent Sirius Black. It was odd but, while Hermione knew he had to go through it - he _was_ a growing boy after all - she still hadn't expected to see Sirius Black ever look _gawky._ Hermione felt a giggle bubbling in her throat. For some reason this image of Sirius was absolutely hilarious to her and before she knew it her laugh exploded from her mouth. Trying to suppress it, the witch slapped a hand over her mouth, only making it worse by squeezing out a loud snerk.

"But if you must know," she added, hoping he wouldn't ask why she was laughing or rather, snerking, if she answered his previous question. "My cousins gave me a hair product to get rid of the mess," she explained, waving a vague hand over her head.

Sirius grimaced, his eyes still roving over her hair. "It looks... tidy," he finished lamely.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she managed in slightly calming her laughter. "Thank you?"

Saying nothing more, Hermione left him, her laughter rapidly getting the better of her and making her fall against the train wall and wrap her arms around her middle as she tried to breathe through all her laughter.

* * *

It was a few weeks into the first term when Hermione found herself glaring at her reflection in the mirror. Did the Marauders honestly think this was creative? She could do a better job at a prank the muggle way. Hermione tilted her head, turning this way and that. All things considered, her hair died blood red and gold suited her. Picking up her wand Hermione weighed her options: one, she could use the counter spell and change her hair back to its normal style; two, she could modify the colours to fit with her house and say she was being supportive of her house, there was a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff today; or three, she could leave it as it was.

The second option by far appealed to Hermione the most and as she was modifying it Hermione realized that the workings of the prank had been quite ingenious: they had altered the simple spell so that it would only take affect during the night and so that she, as a normal third year, wouldn't be able to take it off - unfortunately for the Marauders, Hermione had a bit of extra knowledge under her sleeves. Since their spell had straightened her hair, the dark blue and black locks fell all the way down to her waist.

Hermione pushed her hair behind her shoulders and observed her handy work. Surprisingly, blue and black hair suited her just as much as the other two colours. Not that it mattered much, either way, her hair was going back to brown before tomorrow morning.

Hermione grinned at everyone that took a double look at her due to her hair, linked arms with Adrian and went straight for the Great Hall. As soon as she entered the dinning hall Hermione noticed the four Marauders staring expectantly at the large doors, only Remus looking a bit guilty and nervous. Hermione strolled over to the four boys and waved happily.

"Am I right in assuming that I have you boys to thank for the gift?" Hermione checked, fluffing her hair to reinforce the point that she was talking about her hair.

The boys didn't reply, simply staring at her in confusion. "In any case, I really wanted to thank you! It was such a fun idea, especially on a the first Quidditch day of the year! I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty to change it a little, because, despite red and gold looking _amazing_ on me, I thought the occasion called for more house orientated colours - _my_ house colours, that is," Hermione spewed out, trying to imitate Lavender and Pavarti a slight bit in her manner of speaking. "If it troubles you that much, I'll sport red and gold when Gryffindor plays," she told them when she received no answer.

Then Hermione turned, her longer than usual hair flying around her and slapping James in the face as she sat down at her seat at the Ravenclaw table.

"Damn, she's gotten good," Peter murmured.

"The colour does suit her though," James conceded, still eyeing the girl.

"Who cares if the colour suits her?" Sirius demanded. "This was supposed to be a prank but she turned it into something... cool," he muttered, watching as people walked by her to deliver compliments on her brilliant idea.

"You can blame yourself for that Sirius, it was your idea," Remus stated, pleased with how Hermione had handled the situation.

"Next time, I'll find something to do to her hair that she won't be able to make cool. I'll get her next time," he promised.

"Dude, leave Hermione and her hair alone for now," James recommended warily as Sirius stabbed his eggs with his fork. "We need to start planning our next _real_ prank."

"You're one to talk, you think we didn't know that the water-turning-into-red-food-dye-in-Lily's-shower was you?" Sirius blabbed.

"She was red from head to toe for two whole days," Peter reminded.

"At least my prank worked! I spent a week practising the spell to change the water and got to enjoy my handy work for a few days seeing as she didn't change her colour to blue!"

Remus slammed his book down. "And why would she? She's a Gryffindor! It would make no sense."

James raised a hand to silence his friend. "You are not part of this conversation, Moony," James argued in a high pitched voice.

"Yes I am," Remus mumbled with a pout.

"Butt out Remus, this is between me and James, and James not thinking my prank was good enough!" Sirius pronounced. "I think you just declared war, my friend!" Sirius announced dramatically, standing up.

"You'll never beat me!" James goaded his best friend.

"HA! I'll be the victorious victor who wins the victory!" Sirius proclaimed, raising a fist in the air.

Remus lifted a finger and started to speak but was interrupted by Sirius, sticking his finger against Remus' mouth and shushing him.

"No! Do not pick sides! Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

Speaking around the finger on his lips, Remus replied. "I could actually care less about your fight, I just wanted to point out that your previous sentence was-" he stopped, seeing his friends' incredulous gazes on him. "Um, right, never mind," he relented.

"Go to the _Library_!" James spat in fake disgust, flinging his head to the side hysterically.

"He's a lost cause that boy is," Sirius commented sadly as the pair watched their friend leave, momentarily forgetting about Peter who was happily munching on his food behind them.

James nodded gravely, his eyes serious as he stared off into the distance before suddenly seeming to come to his senses and shaking his head. "Wait, I don't agree! I hate you at the moment! Everything you say is wrong!" James claimed, taking a step to be apart from his best mate. "Come Peter! We're off!" James beckoned.

Peter took a look at his toast and then at his friend, seeming undecided on which call he should obey and then shrugged, grabbing a spoon full of strawberry jam and hopping to his feet. He followed dutifully behind the taller boy, spreading his jam meticulously across the surface of his bread, trying to avoid any of it falling to the stone floor.

"Hey! What the bloody hell James! I thought we agreed there wouldn't be any picking sides and teaming up!" Sirius yelled so his friend would hear him.

James smirked mischievously. "No we didn't, I never said anything about that. You're the one who turned down Remus' offer, I had nothing to do with that."

"That little rat," Sirius complained, fisting his hand to punch the air. "Remus was never going to offer his help to me and he knows it."

Hermione leaned over from her seat at the Ravenclaw table and smiled at the frustrated Gryffindor. "Looks like you're all alone: one against two," she paused, licking her lips. "My bet's on Potter and Pettigrew."

With an angry growl Sirius stormed out of the Great Hall, resisting the urge to turn around when he heard Hermione burst out laughing. That was the second time that he found himself the source of her laughter: he hated it. It enraged him, especially because he suspected it was slightly mocking. Sirius was almost out of the Hall when he heard a small indelicate snort escape the girl and cracked a small smile.

Now that _was_ amusing.

* * *

Two adventureless months had come and gone, it was now the end of November, the students all already discussing the Christmas vacation coming up soon. Hermione was calmly walking beside Remus, laughing at his joke as they approached the Defense classroom. Christmas decorations had been installed during the night and Remus had amusingly commented on the early bird ornaments.

Finally entering the classroom, Hermione looked around when she noticed the missing desks, the sight of a large cupboard at the front of the room causing her to freeze. It couldn't possibly be what she thought it was! She couldn't of all things face a Boggart! It was in the program, she should have expected it but she wasn't ready, she had no idea what her greatest fear was. Hermione felt her breathing become unsteady and her heart start to pound erratically.

Remus, hearing these changes, frowned in concern. What was making her react like that? If he didn't know any better, he would say she was afraid but there was nothing to fear in the Defense classroom apart from a lousy old closet.

Hermione suddenly stumbled forward when Sirius shoved her. "Move it, Delacour, you're blocking the entrance."

Quickly Hermione made her way to the corner of the room farthest from the wardrobe and clutched her bag to her chest, never letting her gaze wander from the furniture at the opposite end of the room. It was once everyone was piled in at the back of the room that it clicked in Remus' mind. His eyes widened in realization as he spoke the word aloud.

" _Boggart_ ," he breathed loud enough to be heard by the Professor who had asked if anyone could guess what was inside the now shaking closet.

The Professor nodded, pleased someone had guessed correctly while behind him, the cupboard was wobbling incessantly. The Boggart could smell the people on the other side of the door, he could feel all the possible fears and taste the anticipation, but there was one that allured him in particular. The Boggart wanted to get out. It _needed_ to get out to find that fear without barriers holding him back. The door spelled shut was shaking more than ever, the terror the Boggart was sensing was almost tangible as it fought to be free. It roared in the confines of its chosen darkness, the dread and panic he could smell through the cracks of the wardrobe was delectable. Something outside his 'cage' was absolutely terrified. This horror called to it like no other. It begged for his attention and he would not disappoint.

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Year three will be relatively short but quite a bit of things will happen. For the sake of the plot,** **Boggarts are third year curriculum. Don't forget to tell me what you think!**


	17. Chapter 17: Something about her

**A/N: You reviewers are awesome! All of them are so full of love and excitement for the story! And even the slightly unhappy or critical ones are filled with encouragement and kindness! I appreciate you guys so much!**

 **Hopefully you will all enjoy this chapter. I struggled through it. And still I am** **uncertain about it... PLEASE tell me your opinions! Thank you.**

 **Disclaimer:** **Professor italics aren't mine.**

"Now who else here knows what a Boggart is?" The Professor asked.

He motioned at one of the few raised hands and let the student speak. "A Boggart is a shapeshifting creature that senses your worst fear and transforms into the object of your fear," the Ravenclaw answered.

"Correct! 5 points," the Professor beamed. "Now, would any of you like to be first in facing it?" He wondered.

Almost all the hands flew into the air and the Professor barely hesitated before choosing Sirius at random. " _The Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. However, to fight a Boggart is very simple_ ," he paused, eyeing all his students. "As long as you can control your fear long enough to cast the _Riddikulus_ spell."

He encouraged all the students to imitate his wand movements while reciting the spell. Hermione remained still, staring intensely at the cupboard, her knuckles white from their tight, unrelenting hold on her bag. She couldn't figure out what her greatest fear was. There was just too much to fear: an enraged Voldemort, a disappointed Harry, a judgemental Ron, a cursing Bellatrix, a dying Remus or even a Dementor. She was certain she feared all those things but which one did she fear most? Perhaps, if she stayed far enough away, she wouldn't have to participate in the exercise and would never have to find out.

It was not meant to be, however, because as soon as the Professor judged them ready to face the Boggart successfully he released the Boggart from the cupboard letting a tall black haired boy in his late teens walk out, heading slowly forwards as he craned his neck as if searching for something in particular. Unexpectedly, when he had halfway reached the boy closest to him, he paused, closed his eyes and inhaled. A long, deep breath. Silence spread in the room as the Boggart turned slightly, his gaze travelling over the gathered crowd and zeroing in on the wide eyed, trembling figure of the curly haired witch in the corner.

A disgusting smirk spread across the creature's face as he leered at her. He took one more loud sniff and shuddered. Never before had he smelt such delicious fear. It was a paralyzing, all consuming fear that could not be overlooked, even in this room full of people. He could smell only her fears. The Boggart struggled, shifting and shifting and shifting, her deepest fear never settling. She was afraid of so many things. It was _perfect_.

"Hermione," he spoke in a soft voice, finally entering into one of her many fears and settling back on the image of the young dark haired boy from before, his first form.

Hermione's book bag fell to the floor with a thud. The class froze, confused, was this supposed to happen? A few chanced a look at the Professor who stood, mouth gaping, wand held limply at his side and understood that this was not planned and definitely _not_ normal.

" _Harry,_ " Hermione breathed, taking a step closer.

"You left me," he commented, his glacial tone contrasting with his pained expression. "You knew what I was going through but you still left and never looked back... Like it never happened."

"No, Harry, no, I would _never_ ," she spoke loudly, so close to a breakdown that she didn't care if everyone could hear and stumbled forward a few more steps.

Grinning evilly the Boggart, in the form of Harry rolled his shoulders and raised his hands to his hair, tearing at it. "Ugh- Argh," he groaned, his eyes flickering to a blood red colour instead of the beautiful green they had started out as. "How could you watch me die and simply leave me! You knew what I was going through! He was always in my mind, he consumed me, I couldn't resist!"

"Fight him, Harry!" She pleaded in a faint voice.

The tall boy gasped in pain, blood starting to drip down from his head as he literally pulled his hair out in lumps, a cruel grin spreading across his face as his eyes turned a permanent red. "He's here right now, in my head," he murmured, through his pained fidgeting. "He'll find you. You're the last one. You're last. He'll get you in the end, just like you deserved."

"It's a lie, Hermione! Don't listen to the Boggart!" Remus yelled, but the words barely registered in Hermione's mind as she gazed wide eyed at the man approaching her.

Harry was shaking his head, fighting the presence in his mind until finally, giving in he stretched his neck, growing taller and paler. Some of the students in the class shrieked and jumped away, eyeing the noseless monster standing in front of the cowering girl. "He lost, dear, he was _always_ going to lose. Your precious Harry never stood a chance against me, especially not after I entered his mind."

Voldemort stepped forward, releasing a cold chuckle. "None of you ever stood a chance! No one stands in my way now, only you. But I'll find you. You can't hide forever."

Remus looked from the Boggart to Hermione. He had at no time before ever seen her look so lost and afraid. Not wanting to hear more, Remus latched onto Hermione's hand and raced her out of the classroom. The deformed man threw his head back to laugh and started to transform for the last time as he watched the girl escape with the boy.

Suddenly reacting, the Professor cast the proper spell, putting an end to the final transformation, Hermione's last fear remaining a mystery to all and locked the creature back into the cupboard. He made no attempt to stop the fleeing pair, allowing the duo to disappear, leaving the gathered students confused and shocked.

"What was that thing?" James asked, referring to the noseless man, glancing at Sirius who had come up beside him.

Sirius shook his head in complete loss and eyed his friend in worry. "That first guy, the Harry dude... He kinda looked like you, didn't he?"

Nudging his friend, James grimaced in disgust. "Don't be ridiculous! He had crazy green eyes, like Evan's. He looked nothing like me. I look way better."

Sirius didn't say anything more, thoughtful. James could deny it all he wanted but that boy had been close to identical to him, except for the eyes and the freakish scar. Rubbing his jaw Sirius picked up his satchel and smiled smugly at where his thoughts ended up bringing him: there were three billion people on earth, _of course_ some of them would look like others. Except him. Sirius Black was one of a kind. _Unique_.

"Alright, all of you out! We'll pick up where we left off during the next course! Don't forget your assignments," the Professor ordered, ushering his students out early and flopping bonelessly into his seat once they were all gone.

He rubbed his neck and eyed the now calm wardrobe. He had never seen anything like that before. People usually had one main fear that the Boggart latched onto, or they had multiple fears that were all similar, such as the deaths of all your family members. A Boggart, unable to transform into the dead bodies of the whole family would in that event, switch between all the members one at a time.

An everyday person however, wasn't supposed to have more than one fear, much less as potent as that little girl's. The Professor closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He knew Bogarts quite well. Which meant he knew that to have such strong and real fears, you had to have gone through very traumatic experiences. His student wasn't just afraid of a spider or an angry relative, the usual fears for thirteen year olds, no, she was afraid of not being able to help a struggling older boy and a behemoth man. Both of which had been physically too detailed and spoken words far too explicit to just be the fruit of her imagination.

What had this small thirteen year old girl named Hermione Delacour gone through that could make her so terrified? Never before had he seen a Boggart pick out someone from such a large crowd. Usually, they went for the person closest to them in order to avoid getting themselves confused with multiple fears. But here - here he had selected her from a group of _thirty_ students. That in itself was perturbing.

The Professor pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to inform the Headmaster of what had happened. Hopefully Dumbledore would know what to do.

* * *

Remus and Hermione were sitting on the edge of a large open arch and near a small spiralling staircase, on the fifth floor, with Remus' arms wrapped firmly around the petite witch. Silent tears were running down her cheeks, slowly coming to an end as Hermione calmed down. Remus was watching the tweeting birds that Hermione had flawlessly enchanted at some point, as he waited for her to relax. It was when she released a final raspy sigh that he dared to speak.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm," she hummed to show she was listening.

"He was James' son, right?" He questioned, softly.

Hermione shut her eyes. "Yes."

"That's why my older self had a soft spot for him, because he was the son of my dead bestfriend?"

"Mhmm, Harry was an orphan. He had no family that really cared for him, at least until you came around," she expanded. "Sure, he had Ron's family but you were different, you knew his father, you were his uncle."

"No family? Where was Sirius? You said you knew him before he died," Remus queried.

"Sirius wasn't around for the first thirteen years of Harry's life. Harry had no idea any of you Marauders existed until his third year of Hogwarts."

"That doesn't make sense! If Sirius and I were alive we would have done anything in our power to be with him!" Remus argued for his future self.

Hermione shook her head. "Remus in my time, you never got over being a werewolf and you probably stayed away because of some bullshite belief that you were a danger to him. And Sirius, if he had been able to I'm sure he would have been around but he was unable to. He wasn't free to do what he wanted."

Remus was unhappy with her answers but let her be, suspecting she was still shaken up by what had happened. Instead, he rubbed her shoulder, keeping his arm around her shoulder and sat in silence, watching the birds flying in circles over their heads.

* * *

When the weekend came, Hermione knew exactly what she needed to do in order to put her Boggart to rest for the time being. The words Boggart Harry had spoken wouldn't let her be, swirling in her mind, keeping her awake at night and making her constantly uncomfortable.

 _Like it never happened,_ he had said. And it bothered her. Had it? Well, _yes_ , it had. That wasn't the right question. Had it _really_ happened? She tried asking herself instead. Hermione bit her lip. She still wasn't convinced that was the right thing to ask herself. Had Hermione Granger really existed? Perhaps that was closer to her doubts. The Muggleborn witch knew she _believed_ Hermione Granger had existed in the future... but what if she hadn't? What if it had all been some odd sort of dream of the future? A Seer dream? Had she been in a Vision for so long that she had become convinced it was real?

Yes, she had extra Cores and scars but... She was eleven, something that left her furiously perplexed. Obviously the Dumbledore men would blame the Core Magics somehow messing up her body and though she was tempted to agree, what if it wasn't? Hermione could question the reality of her situation over and over again, her thought process just going around in circles. The more she thought the more confused she became. Which was why today, instead of going to the Library for her usual Saturday morning study session, she was going to go into the Forbidden Forest and seek out the thestrals. She had already seen them in this life but with all the questions racing through her mind she needed to touch the thestrals, feel them to make sure she wasn't imagining them. Remove all trace of doubt from her head and erasing the inquiries.

With her cloak clasped closed, Hermione stepped carefully in the thin layer of snow outside and wandered over to the forest, holding a skin pouch full of raw meet she had picked up from the kitchens. The elves, overenthusiastic to please her, had filled the pouch with far more meat than she planned on needing but still she had accepted the bag gratefully. At the border of the Forest, Hermione pushed a few branches aside, causing snow to fall from the trees around her onto the ground and her hair. She stopped, eyeing the dark inside of the aptly named Dark Forest. As she stood there, Hermione thought her decision over: she needed to do this to reassure her mind but at the same time, if something happened to her while she was in the Forest, no one would know since she had purposefully forgotten to inform anyone on her destination so as to avoid being questioned.

Hermione, ignoring her hesitation to enter the forest stepped inside, letting the branches sway back into their natural position as she let them go. She trudged through the trees, wandering randomly left and right, hoping to come across the herd of thestrals before noon. Hermione finally heard a loud whine and came to a stop when the thestrals appeared, surrounding her from all sides. The witch was not surprised, having been hoping that the pouch full of raw meat and blood would attract them. She dropped the pouch at the base of a tree and stood at the bottom of a slight hill as they moved closer to her.

She raised her hands and caressed the one closest to her. The serene smile that spread over Hermione's face as she murmured a few words to the creatures was incomparable to any of her other smiles. She giggled when she suddenly stumbled after being nudged unexpectedly from a thestral who was demanding her attention. She wrapped her arms around it to steady herself. Hermione felt completely at peace surrounded by the thestrals who were all vying for her affection. Getting impatient, one of the bigger ones shrieked, a shrill bird-like sound, and pawed the ground. Hermione didn't even react to the noise like normal people would. Any normal, non-seeing person would leave quickly after hearing such a shriek but Hermione suspected that was only because they couldn't see the animals.

Instead of fleeing, Hermione carefully moved towards her bag by stepping around the animals. If there had been any non-seeing bystanders, they would've had to commend Hermione for her balance as she leaned in what they thought was an awkward way in the air, in a stance anyone never would have been able to pull off with out falling face first into the snow. Reaching the pack, Hermione opened it and tossed a raw piece of meat up in the air. The thestrals fought for the meat but Hermione was careful to make sure that all of them had at least one slice each.

After over an hour in the company with the thestrals Hermione was satisfied that she wasn't making everything up, she had truly lived her other life, not just witnessed. Perhaps the scar would have been proof enough to most people, but having to live a new life, in a new time, at a new age... after while the lines of reality blurred. What was real? What was not? It became harder to distinguish as the time passed and she suspected it would become even harder as the time went on. But as long as she could see both the thestrals out in the world and the scar on her body, Hermione would never doubt again. Both her mind and body had lived in the future.

* * *

As she walked back into the school, Hermione checked the time on the large wall clock. Seeing it was lunch time, Hermione continued to walk straight over to the Great Hall. As usual she took her seat next to Adrian, across from Pandora who was sitting next to Xenophilius on one side and next to Rachel, their dorm mate, on the other. Nobody took notice of the last students trailing in and sitting at their designated tables. Few students glanced up when an odd sensation flowed through their bodies once everyone was seated in the hall. It was only when the students staring at the ceiling continued staring up for an unnatural amount of time that those around them started to inquire about their reasons. Receiving explanations, they too looked up with frowns on their faces. This went on for a while until noise levels in the Great Hall rose to deafening heights as gradually the students became more and more dismayed.

"Is the ceiling really entirely covered in mistletoe?" Adrian asked in consternation.

"Looks that way," Hermione exhaled.

" _Why?_ " He wanted to know.

"Sirius you idiot! Did you even think this through?" James hissed.

"Yeah I did. Knew you'd have to kiss Peter and watch Lily kiss Frank!" Sirius claimed gleefully.

"Sure but did you consider that you'd have to kiss Remus?"

Sirius shrugged, carelessly. "That doesn't bother me."

"You could have at least sat next to Dorcas and made it worthwhile," Remus complained, not liking the fact that he had to kiss his best mate.

"Pucker up gorgeous!" Sirius exclaimed, moving closer to his friend on the bench.

They were the first two to kiss, setting in motion the chain reaction of people kissing their neighbours in a bid to be free of the restraining mistletoe. Laughing Hermione placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder, leaned over and pecked him rapidly on the lips, releasing both of them from the enchanted plant. Adrian looked down at his plate with rose tinted cheeks and went back to eating as if nothing had happened, Hermione however, chose to watch Pandora and Xenophilius with a knowing glint.

"You're going to have to kiss at one point. Just get it over with," she recommended.

Shrugging, Xenophilius as the more experienced one of the pair seeing as he was a fifth year, took charge and carefully placed his hand on Pandora's cheek and kissed her gently on the lips before pulling away from her with a bright smile as the mistletoe faded from above them. Hermione chanced a look behind her in time to see a blushing Lily pull away from a chuckling Mark. The red-head was oblivious of the glaring James Potter as she threw her friend Alice an apologetic look. Soon only a few mistletoes remained, sprinkled unevenly throughout the Great Hall, one of which could be found over the heads of an upset James Potter and an uncertain Peter Pettigrew.

"You'll pay for this Black," James promised as he quickly kissed his friend, snapping back when a bright flash, blinded him. "NO!"

Grinning, Sirius waved the camera out of his friends reached and ran from the hall.

"Those boys really bring life to the school, don't they?" Pandora commented as she watched their antics.

"And not always in a good way," Hermione criticized.

"Oh, they're fairly harmless pranks," Xenophilous dismissed as he bit out a piece of bread.

"Sure," Hermione twitched. "When they're not aimed solely at you. I assure you that Lily, Severus and I aren't always laughing along when we're targeted - and we're not likely to be the only ones."

* * *

Regulus was peacefully reading in the Library, waiting for his study partners to show up. He had arrived early on their group study day in the hopes of finishing his reading before the other three students arrived. He was confused when Hermione sat at his table half an hour earlier than planned.

"Hello Regulus!" Hermione greeted brightly.

"You're early," he observed.

Hermione nodded as she removed her jacket. "As are you. I wanted to talk."

"I'm busy," Regulus stated, his expression and tone bored as he looked back down at his book.

Hermione reached over and pushed his book down on the table top, knowing this would annoy him enough to catch his attention. "Please, Regulus?"

Huffing in irritation, Regulus crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "Alright fine. What do you want to talk about?" He challenged.

Hermione paused, somewhat surprised that it had been this easy to get him to accept. "I- well- you know- how are you?"

Regulus snorted and spread his arms over the back of his seat with a shake of his head. "That's really what you wanted to ask?"

Hermione pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowed as she moved to sit in a chair beside Regulus. "Not exactly, no," she admitted and sighed. "The truth is... I wanted to ask you about Sirius."

Regulus tensed. "What about him?" He asked, tersely.

Hermione shrugged as she looked away, trying to appear casual. "I don't know, I just find it odd that you two don't spend that much time together."

"Why would we?" Regulus wanted to know. "He's a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin."

"You're brothers, you live in the same house during the holidays," Hermione argued.

The black haired boy scoffed. "Please, my brother practically stopped coming home after his first Christmas break. Our parents weren't too happy with his sorting you see, so he avoids home as much as possible. Spends as little time as possible there. And basically ignores me ever since I was sorted."

"Do you ever think that that's only happened because you two don't talk?" She inquired, gently. "I'm sure if you two _talked_ you'd find-"

"We talk," Regulus commented.

"I mean truly talked, about your feelings and-"

"What? Find out that our houses don't matter?" Regulus laughed, humourlessly. "Yes, I'm sure that would be the case. How silly of me not to have thought about the possibilities talking could have on our relationship! I've seen how he is with Slytherins, Hermione and I don't need him being that way to my face."

Hermione stared at her friend helplessly. The Black brothers relationship would be ruined forever simply because they refused to be seen as weak and confront the other. Granted opinions and ways of life were also big factors but this was the whole crux of the problem. " _Regulus,_ " she whispered. "Regulus, a brother as loyal as Sirius is such a rare thing."

Regulus glowered. "Loyal to who? His _friends?_ Or his family? Because I assure you, ever since he came to Hogwarts he couldn't care less about me. All he thinks about are his Gryffindor friends and pranks."

"You're brothers. That's much stronger than any house ties he might have built while at Hogwarts."

"Gryffindors and Slytherins don't mix for anything more than obligation, Hermione," he reminded her. "Sirius obviously knows and agrees with that."

Hermione rested her hand on his forearm and spoke in a clear voice. "There are some things more important than school houses. There are some relationships that are worth more than anything in the world. There are somethings worth fighting for," she paused, trying to catch his gaze. "And a brother who cares about you _is_ one of those things."

The pair jumped apart when a book crashed to the floor behind them. Looking around they saw no one, but wanting to make sure, Hermione told Regulus to wait for the others at the table while she went to check. Rounding the corner Hermione saw nothing except for a lone book, lying open on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, she carefully closed it and peered around one more time only for her gaze to land on a pair of wide grey eyes staring right back at her from the Library doors.

Sirius Black had frozen in his departure when his gaze locked onto Hermione's as he glanced back before walking through the library doors. Hermione stared back at him blankly, not making the connection and wondering why Sirius looked so confused.

Said boy, on the other hand, was focusing on Hermione, his thoughts all over the place. What had he just overheard exactly? He had heard Delacour telling his brother that some things were more important than school houses and that a brother was worth fighting for, which made no sense. He shook his head as he finally escaped, hurrying through the halls to find some place to think. Had he really heard Hermione Delacour defending him to his brother? His brother who was slowly starting to avoid and ignore him? Why on earth was that annoying witch doing such a thing?! She hated him! And since when was Regulus that close to the girl- close to the point of confiding such deep feelings?

It seemed many things had been happening right under his nose. And Delacour was at the centre of it all. Delacour not thinking he was a horrible person, Delacour and Regulus becoming good friends, Delacour defending him to Regulus and who knows who else, Delacour befriending close to everyone he knew. None of it made sense but perhaps that was all _his_ own fault. Everyone liked Hermione Delacour, even those who started out not liking or caring about her. They had all seen something within her at some point. First it was Remus, who saw it immediately, and then James, who had obviously seen it after the first summer vacation. But what was it they were seeing exactly? Sirius was certain that he had just seen or witnessed it- however you wanted to put it- but he couldn't put a name to it. What was it almost everyone had- and that he had only just- seen in her? Cautiously, Sirius was willing to accept that he had perhaps completely misjudged and misunderstood Hermione Delacour. Sirius realized this when he finally reached his destination and sat down heavily on the Gryffindor Common Room couch.

Not that it mattered all that much. Delacour was still an insufferable know-it-all. Just because he discovered something about her, wouldn't change the fact that she was unbearable and that he couldn't stand her.

 **A/N: So I"m very nervous about this chapter as a whole... Please tell me if you liked it or not.**


	18. Chapter 18: Unexpected encounters

**A/N: Italics are French. Thank you for all the great reviews and follows and favs! This chapter is a relationship development one so don't be surprised if nothing much happens... Sorry if you're disappointed but hopefully you'll still enjoy it!**

Hermione stood stiffly as the women circled her. She pulled at the hem of her dress feeling uncomfortable under so many strict but appreciative looks. How did these witches manage in looking both horribly critical _and_ pleased at the same time. Hermione had never before cared so much about her appearance as she did now: was her hair tidy? Was the dress she wore acceptable? It was one of the first times Hermione actually felt self-obsessed. The curly haired witch shifted once more and glanced around the room wildly in search of her brother.

"Oh yes," Marine stated, breaking the silence.

"Oui! _She can now be called a Delacour witch,"_ Clarice agreed.

" _Marvellous!"_ Another commented.

"Or almost," the fourth one said dryly, pointing to the teeth and the hair.

"Come now," Clarice teased. "Her hair was much worse before! It used to be unmanageable, whereas now she can brush it at least."

"It does not look brushed," Hermione's platinum blonde cousin, Juliette, argued.

Hermione huffed, quite put out by her cousins discussing her as if she wasn't present.

"A little life in one's hair is not a problem, Juliette! Not all of us enjoy stick flat hair," Marine snipped with a look at Juliette's hair.

Hermione frowned, as far as she was concerned, Juliette's hair was perfect, full of volume and flowing straight down to her shoulder blades. Hermione wouldn't be against having such manageable hair.

"As for the teeth... We can take care of the teeth."

Escaping their circle Hermione raced over to the grand stair case, climbing a few in order to overlook all those in attendance. This party was larger than the previous years. More people had been invited and from the looks of it, they were not only close family friends. Hermione could see many people introducing themselves to the usual guests, why, just next to her brother stood a tall, dark skinned man in typical African wizarding robes who had definitely not been there the last two years. Hermione rested a hand on the railing and took a step closer to the edge to get a better look. That was Kinglsey! He had graduated after her first year at Hogwarts. He certainly was just as handsome as she remembered, he even had a little hair which suited him quite well. Hermione continued to observe him, a small, knowing smile gracing her lips.

Feeling the weight of her gaze on him, Shacklebolt searched for the person staring at him. His eyes met those of a young, curly haired witch standing on the staircase. Her gaze was strong, unwavering and entirely too knowing. She looked at him as if she knew him and all his secrets. Her eyes shone like those of Albus Dumbledore's but hers were oddly _more_ knowledgeable. Kingsley never would have thought someone could know more than Albus, and yet, here she stood across from him in this ballroom. Hermione scanned the man and refused to look away from him when he stared back.

Deciding she should introduce herself after being caught staring Hermione made her way purposefully across the hall, weaving herself through the crowd and adeptly escaping any interlocutors. Reaching him quickly Hermione smiled at the young man and held out her hand.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," she greeted, gracefully accepting his kiss to the back of her hand.

"And I you, it seems I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before..." He trailed off, waiting for her to introduce herself.

"Hermione Delacour," she introduced. "Guillaume Delacour's sister."

"Ah, the new addition," Kingsley nodded.

"I've heard much about you," Hermione stated, ignoring her brother's raised eyebrow at that. "You make a great Auror."

"Thank you, that is very kind of you to say," Kingsley blushed discreetly at her words and looked away.

Hermione was surprised by his reaction. "You think I am being merely polite?" She questioned, eyes wide. "I assure you I am not. You're the youngest Auror in decades are you not? You should not doubt yourself."

"As nice as that is to hear, I am not yet an Auror," Kingsley admitted.

Smoothly, Hermione continued. "Be that as it may, I have no doubt it will be the case soon enough."

Kingsley watched her in shock while Guillaume ruffled his sister's hair. "My sister never says things lightly and always believes her words to be one hundred percent true. I've come to find that it's best to listen to her because, she's rarely been wrong. She does her research, you see and never speaks about something without full knowledge on it," Guillaume told him.

Kingsley nodded, accepting such an explanation but nonetheless noticing the lingering look she was sending his way. "Then I am glad she said such a thing."

* * *

On the second Monday back from the Christmas break, Hermione Delacour received a letter from a handsome eurasian eagle-owl, opened the letter and stopped mid chew. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the Head table. Her gaze landed on the headmaster who seemed to be staring at her, awaiting a response. For a moment she glanced from Albus to the letter and back before nodding and peacefully, going back to her meal. As soon as the dinner ended she went straight to his office, spoke his password to the stone gargoyle and making herself comfortable in his office as she waited for the older man to arrive. She was surprised, to say the least, when both Dumbledore men walked in a few minutes later. This, she had not been expecting.

"My... I was not informed you would be present Aberforth," Hermione commented, eyeing the brothers carefully.

"My brother did not trust me to do this alone," Albus informed her.

"Justifiable," Hermione murmured, earning a delighted chuckle from both.

Albus' eyes twinkled as he moved to the shelf closest to his desk and pulled out a seemingly random trinket. Hermione shuffled in her seat in order to get a better look at the object and realized it was a bracelet. She took it hesitantly from Albus as he handed it to her and observed it closely, noticing it was in fact made of silver.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She inquired, confused as to why the Dumbledore brothers would wish to give her jewelry.

"At a recent Order meeting certain members had a few questions regarding your identity," Aberforth stated.

Hermione was taken aback. "You go to Order meetings?"

Aberforth shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, as you know, I was not the greatest fan of my brother's club when you arrived. However, I took it upon myself to suffer through some meetings when you decided it was in your best interest to associate with it."

"Wait, you mean to say you joined the Order because I joined it?"

Appearing embarrassed he nodded as a grin broke out on her face, from ear to ear. "Thank you," she said, genuinely touched that he cared for her that much.

Clearing his throat, Abe waved her thanks away. "That was not the reason why we are here."

Hermione settled herself comfortably into the chair as a sign for them to continue. Smiling, Albus was next to speak. "As we were saying: some members-"

" _Longbottom,_ " Aberforth coughed, raising a challenging eyebrow when his brother threw him a stern glare.

Hermione wanted to laugh at how childlike they could be when together. "-were starting to have concerns about the Source remaining anonymous."

"Why?"

"You see, Mr Longbottom is incredibly grateful that you saved his life which is why he and others are starting to want to know your name, not only to thank you for saving their lives but also as an insurance policy."

" _Insurance policy?_ " Hermione repeated in disbelief.

"What I mean is: you have allowed the Order to save so many lives and they are worried that if something were to happen to me, none of them would be able to find or contact you," he explained.

"Did you tell them that _I_ could find _them_?"

"Of course he did, but they want to know how they'll know for sure it's you?"

"Veratiserum?" She offered.

"Would you take it willingly in the presence of who knows how many people?" Aberforth challenged.

"No," Hermione muttered.

"Then there is the event that both Albus and you die, in which case how will the Order even know you passed and are no longer around to be a source of information?"

"You would still be here."

"And if I died?"

"What are the chances that both Dumbledore brothers and I would die, all at the same time?"

"A war is brewing, one far different than the one you came here expecting: who knows what could happen? Besides I have chosen to be mainly an observing member in the Order and do not wish people to know I know your identity."

"So what do you both suggest? You obviously have some sort of idea. One that has to do with this bracelet?" She guessed, lifting the delicate bracelet.

"Indeed, we actually have two options though the best idea would be for you to opt for both."

"Go on," Hermione urged.

"This bracelet is a Dumbledore family heirloom," the headmaster told her.

"And you're giving it to me?"

"I informed the Order that if the Source chose to reveal themselves to the Order, they would be able to confirm their identity with this," Albus explained.

"Only a Dumbledore can wear it... Anyone else must be given explicit and express permission from all living Dumbledores, which is just us two," Aberforth stated, motioning between his brother and himself.

Hermione nodded, this seemed like an acceptable and risk free solution should both Dumbledore's ever die. "The other option?" She inquired as Aberforth fastened the bracelet on her wrist.

"After deep thought it has been decided, by vote, that Order members will receive a sort of mark as proof of membership," Albus said.

"Like the Dark Mark?" Hermione inquired, slightly aghast.

"No not at all! I could, in no way, summon anyone with the tattoos, it would only be visible to Order members and would look quite like a phoenix shaped birthmark."

Hermione grimaced slightly. "If it eases your doubt, I myself took the phoenix and would be the one to place it on your skin," Aberforth added.

"I could place it anywhere I wish?"

"Yes, though if you ever need to show it to others, I suggest a place not too intimate," Albus teased, his eyes twinkling.

"Fair enough, it wouldn't be a bad idea to be able to recognize true Members from imposters..." Standing Hermione shrugged and contemplated where to have the phoenix marked.

"Only Order members would see it, yes?" Hermione checked.

Simultaneously the brothers nodded. Thoughtful Hermione twirled a lock of her hair. The back of her neck seemed a good choice: easily accessible if she needed to show it, but easily hidden under her mane of hair. Yes, it would do just fine. She tapped her finger on the spot.

"Right here will do."

"There were small ceremonies for all the other phoenixes accepted. Unfortunately, you will not have one as only Aberforth and I are present."

"Joining of a war resistance group does not sound like something worthy of a celebration," Hermione criticized.

"I suppose not... But an actual war is still far from most minds even from those of Order members, at the moment it is nothing more than terrorism or something similar to guerilla warfare," Albus reminded her.

Hermione said nothing more, feeling the comforting warmth of the mark appearing on her sensitive skin. Moving to a mirror, she pulled her hair back and examined the phoenix. It was quite nice and rather discreet: it truly did just look like an oddly shaped birthmark. Letting her hair fall back over her shoulders Hermione turned and smiled at the men.

"I best get going or my roommates will wonder where I've gone. Aberforth, I'll see you this weekend to work on the next batch of wolfsbane potion."

* * *

Hermione was wandering the halls of Hogwarts, heading for the girls lavatory to visit her unexpected friend who was hidden in the bowels of the school. From what she understood, Anguis spent almost all his time sleeping and only really woke up when she came to him. It sounded quite boring, actually. She pulled her school cloak close to her body and tugged at the hood to make she it hid her face. She came to an abrupt stop when two light voices carried over to her from an adjacent corridor. Taking a peek he watched as the two Black brothers fell silent looking back at her, Sirius in suspicion and Regulus in surprise.

"Hermione," Regulus nodded in greeting.

"Regulus. _Black_. It's almost curfew, what are you doing out and about at this hour?" She inquired.

"Same rules as last time, right Hermione?" Regulus confirmed, cleanly avoiding answering her question.

"Of course," she agreed, knowing he was referring to the last time they had caught each other wandering the halls at this hour, though that time he had been in the company of Severus not Sirius, a far more preferable black haired boy in Hermione's mind. Still he would say nothing, if she said nothing and that suited her fine.

"What?" Sirius questioned, confused.

"Good evening, Regulus."

With those words both Hermione and Regulus walked in opposite directions, Regulus back to the dungeons and Hermione to the toilet.

"Regulus, remember what I said, yeah?" Sirius called after his brother.

"Sure, whatever," Regulus snapped, obviously not planning on doing what his brother requested.

Nonetheless, Sirius welcomed his brothers words before turning onto the curly haired witch walking away from him.

"Delacour," he snapped. "How is it that you're always where I am?" He demanded, his voice annoyed but his tone not completely unpleasant.

"Who knows? Perhaps we're bonded? Fated to find each other against our will?" She mocked.

"You wish," Sirius muttered.

Hermione stopped mid step and turned to face the taller boy. "I assure you Sirius Black, at this moment in time the last thing I ever want to be is fated to find you _anywhere_."

"At this moment in time?" He repeated, still following her. "So you admit that you would like to be in the future," he stated smugly, hoping to anger her.

Hermione tilted her head, casting a shadow over half her face due to the torchlight in the hall. "That would depend on you, Sirius Black and the path you choose to tread," she spoke, knowing that if she stayed calm and took his words 'seriously', he would get irked.

"I can promise you that I will never tread the path that leads me to be fated to find you!" He swore, turning red.

Hermione smiled peacefully. "Then we shouldn't have any problems now should we?"

With that, Hermione turned and skipped away. Sirius simply could not understand how a witch who annoyed and angered him so much, could also understand him so well. She was the whole reason why he had just now tried to talk with his brother. He could not forget the words she had said to Regulus the other day in the library: somethings were worth fighting for. He would do his best to get his brother to speak with him the same way Regulus spoke to Hermione. However, Hermione could say whatever she wanted, he could try to fight for a better relationship with his brother but a person could only take so many rejections.

Later that night, as Hermione left the Chamber and headed back to her dorm contemplating her interaction with the eldest Black. She would not yet get her hopes up that the brothers' relationship would change, there were still at least four years of war to go through. Who knew what would happen. As Dumbledore had said: a war very different from the one she had known was brewing. She needed to be ready. But for now, she was going to enjoy her incredibly calm school year. While redoing all her Hogwarts years was not something she had been looking forward to when she had discovered she was eleven again two years and a half ago, she couldn't deny that going to Hogwarts without her life being constantly on the line was an entirely different experience. Pleasant but a bit mundane.

She knew she didn't have to worry about her life becoming wholly tedious. The time would come for her life be threatened anew.

* * *

"I'm sorry... Did I hear that wrong?" Adrian asked, glancing at Hermione.

Hermione sighed heavily as she gathered her books. "No you didn't. Unfortunately. You stay here, I'll move."

"Good luck," he encouraged.

The witched twirled slowly on the tip of her feet and smiled without joy as she rolled her eyes. "I'll need it, thanks."

Hermione slammed her books onto the table and sat down. "This is nice, isn't it?" Pandora enquired, tilting her head and turning on her seat.

"You're the only thing nice about this, Dora," Hermione snipped.

"You got that right," Sirius mumbled, practically falling off his seat when James shoved him. "What the hell?!" He exclaimed.

"You forgetting about me mate?" James fake sneered.

"No! It's just that you're better than nice! You're the _great_ thing about this!" Sirius claimed.

James flicked his hair. "Right... That's a feeble attempt to haul yourself out of the grave you buried yourself in."

"Oh dear," Pandora murmured delicately.

An idea flashed in his brain and smirked. "Pandora, if you wish to make it up to me, may we switch seats?"

Checking first with Hermione, Pandora acquiesced and took his seat. "Hello _Hermione,"_ James grinned, her name rolling off his tongue deliciously in a bid to annoy Sirius. "A pleasure to have you as my table _mate,_ " he purred, ignoring his best friend's dark look.

Hermione rubbed her temple. "Oh Merlin, I can't believe I'm stuck with you lot for the rest of the year."

"You'll enjoy it, I promise," James promised as he smiled at her. "Potions will soon be your favourite class and we'll be the best of friends by the end of the year."

Sirius grimaced in disgust at his friend's word. "Godrick, I hope not!"

 **A/N: Sooooo... Yeah I know... Third year is coming to an end quickly. But there will probably be at least one more chapter for relationship development reasons again. :D Hope you enjoy this slightly filler but necessary chapter. Please tell me! Sorry for typos and** **spelling: point them out to me if you want and I'll fix 'em!**


	19. Chapter 19: The Phoenix Lady

**A/N: Hello! Sorry for the little wait, end of term finals kept me busy! So here it is: the last chapter of year three! Please point out any small or major errors!**

 **Disclaimer: Not my stuff.**

"I could care less what you boys were planning for this weekend!" Hermione proclaimed, hurrying to keep up with the two Gryffindor boys. "Pandora's already agreed and so will you! We're meeting up this weekend to gather the ingredients and that's final."

The boys shrugged noncommittally. It was already the end of their fifth potion class where they all found themselves unfortunately teamed up and they had just been assigned to find the ingredients for an antidote to uncommon poisons in time for next class.

"If you're not there, I _will_ tell Professor Slughorn. Call me a snitch or teachers pet all you want but I refuse to do all the work with Pandora. This is a _group_ assignment. Remember that," she calmed down as they simply stared at her, as if surprised by her outburst. "Saturday. Great Hall at 8 a.m. If we're lucky we can get it over with quickly and find time to enjoy Hogsmead."

"Fine," the two Gryffindors huffed, crossing their arms and pouting to show their disapproval but not wanting to challenge her into telling Slughorn, they already knew she would do it.

* * *

The boys awoke bright and early that Saturday, cursing their luck in having to wake up so early. Sirius and James dragged their feet to the Great Hall while trying to rub the sleep from their eyes. James picked a large plate and piled it with food, scarfing it down with only minutes to spare before meeting with Hermione and Pandora by the doors.

"You're on time," Hermione stated, surprised.

"Observant," Sirius said, sarcastically.

Hermione decided to ignore his cheery mood and made sure they were following her before leading them to the edge of the Black Forest.

"Alright, we'll be separating into two teams, Pandora and Sirius, you and I," she ordered, pointing at James. "Because, honestly, I don't trust either you or Black getting the job done if we leave you two together."

The boys sighed, not denying she was right and Sirius, simply quite glad that at least he was not paired up with the curly brunette, left quickly with the blond in toe. Hermione and James walked to the forest, taking a little more time, carefully choosing where they went in the forest. Hermione and James barely talked, only interacting when James would point to random plants and ask if that was the one they were looking for.

"Did you not read the recipe for the Antidote?" Hermione demanded after he questioned her for a fifth time.

Before he could answer, they were distracted by a high pitched yelp from somewhere to their left and without even hesitating the duo started running towards where they suspected their teammates were.

"What happened?" James exclaimed, as he burst into the clearing in front of Hermione. "Are you both alright?"

"We're fine!" Sirius replied. "Pandora here just tripped."

Hermione helped her friend up from the ground and watched as Pandora wiped her scraped hands on her skirt, smearing a little blood on the cotton.

"Here let me help you," Hermione offered, gently taking Pandora's hands in hers. "If you keep bleeding you're going to attract Acromantulas or Thestrals."

"Acromantula? There are some in the Black Forest?" Sirius asked, glancing around anxiously.

"Why do you think we're technically forbidden from coming in here, or at least wandering too far in?" She questioned, sarcastically. "Is a brave Gryffindor like you afraid now?" She mocked.

"No," Sirius snapped. "It was just unexpected, that's all."

"Well, you don't have to worry. Hagrid is friends with the Acromantulas' father and he stops them from eating students. Aragog won't die until at least twenty more years and as long as he's around you have nothing to fear from the spiders," Hermione reassured him, realizing that he was a little frightened and not blaming him in the slightest.

"How do you even _know_ that?" Sirius demanded.

"I like spending time with Hagrid," Hermione shrugged without blinking an eye. She was slipping up more and more as the days went by, finding that the more time she spent with people she knew from her time, the easier it was to forget that they were younger versions of the people she knew. "Acromantulas live for about 70 healthy years and Aragog was born in '42... So as long as Aragog is around and you don't stupidly wander into the Acromantula lair, you have nothing to fear."

"I'm not afraid!" Sirius repeated, but still his body visibly relaxed after her explanation.

"Anyway... Might I suggest we switch? I'll explode if I hear James ask me one more time if a blade of grass is the plant we're looking for," Hermione said, not completely sure if she believed that Pandora had _actually_ tripped.

"That was one time!" James proclaimed but ended up shrugging, obviously not bothered either way. "But if that's what you want, Hermione."

 _Hermione._ Sirius mouthed, frowning at his friend. James rolled his eyes at Sirius' reaction and smiled at Pandora. The two girls turned to their new partners, Hermione stopping when she saw the herd of Thestrals standing right behind Sirius.

"Sirius... Don't move a muscle," she breathed, catching the attention of all three students in the clearing.

"What why?" Sirius asked, eyes wide and body frozen.

Pandora immediately understood what was happening when she noticed the eerily silent forest. "Hermione, what is it? Are there Thestrals?"

"Thestrals?" James demanded, craning his neck. "I don't see a bloody thing. What the hell are Thestrals?"

Sirius shifted at James words. "Are you all puling my leg?" He asked annoyed.

Hermione shook her head, her gaze locked on what was obviously a newborn Thestral sniffing Sirius' hand. "Just don't move. Trust me."

Thestrals were usually gentle creatures no matter their age, but they were extremely protective. The Thestral at the black haired boy's side looked barely a few hours old and four very attentive adult Thestrals were slowly approaching Sirius. One wrong one on Sirius' part that the full grown Thestrals judged threatening and Sirius would become nothing but a pile of bones on the ground.

"Wait for me to lure them away from you and then move over to James and Pandora."

Pandora watched in open fascination as Hermione knelt on the ground, a few feet away from them all and started calling what Pandora guessed was a youngling in a soothing voice. James watched with wide eyes, mouth agape, wondering how he was going to break it to his parents that the girl they clearly adored had gone insane. Finally, Hermione seemed to rest her hand on thin air and nodded to Sirius.

"You can move now," she informed him, caressing the Thestral.

Sirius turned when he reached the pair, expecting to see some sort of creature but was left just as confused as James when he saw nothing but air surrounding Hermione. However, something that left Sirius even more dumbfounded was the look of complete peace and serenity on the girl's face as she smiled up and down at the air.

"She's lost it," he murmured. "Gone mad with her imaginary creatures."

"They're not imaginary," Pandora informed them.

"You see them too?" James inquired.

"Oh no, I don't have the misfortune," Pandora shook her head.

"Misfortune?" Sirius' brow furrowed as he glanced back at the oddly blissful looking Hermione Delacour. "She seems to enjoy it."

"Well, there's a common misconception about Thestrals. Most people tend to avoid them because of what they represent and what it means to see them. But then there are those few who can see them for what they truly are, like Hermione. She sees them as tranquil creatures full of love and that help give closure for most people who can see them," Pandora clarified.

"Now that doesn't sound so bad... Wouldn't mind seeing them myself," James joked.

Pandora smiled at him sadly and Sirius asked. "You said people avoid them because of what they represent? What do they represent?" He enquired, prompting her to expand on the subject.

"Death," Pandora spoke. "They represent death. Only those who have witnessed death firsthand can see Thestrals."

"You have to see someone die directly in front of you to see Thestrals?" Pandora nodded. "So, that means Hermione watched someone die? The _Boggart_ ," Sirius said with James breathing the last word with him after a pause.

Pandora hesitated before confirming their conclusions. "There's a bit more to it than that, you have to take into account the circumstances of the death and the way the mind processes it but yes, death is _the_ main factor that leads to seeing a Thestral."

Both boys grimaced as they went back to observing the girl who was laughing as she was shoved by the invisible creatures.

"Can we touch them even if we can't see them?" Sirius wanted to know.

"Yes," Hermione replied, having eavesdropped. "You can come here if you'd like," she offered, gesturing him to come closer to her. "Just walk slowly, there's a newborn Thestral with this herd and Thestrals are extremely protective, which is why I told you to stay still earlier."

Nodding, the trio moved closer and knelt near Hermione, Sirius and James on either side of Hermione and Pandora turned towards all three of them on their left. Not thinking too much about the fact that two out of the three people with her were supposed to hate her, Hermione grabbed the hand closest to her, which happened to belong to Sirius, the one who disliked her the most and guided it towards her other hand. Sirius seemed not too bothered by her hold on him at the moment. He was too busy looking around in blind wonder at the feeling of the creatures moving around him and sometimes brushing against him.

Hermione called out in a low voice, her other hand outstretched as she waited for a Thestral to seek out her touch. Soon the largest pressed against her palm and grinning, Hermione tugged on Sirius' hand, removing hers and replacing it with Sirius'. He gasped and Hermione held his hand in place for a moment before letting go.

"That's the male leader of this half of the herd," she informed him, as she helped both James and Pandora find a Thestral.

She then went back to rewarding the foal with her attention.

"What do they look like?" James inquired, squinting at the air as if this would enable him to see them.

"They're coal black, almost skin on bones but that's due to their morphology and not because they're starved. They have large, powerful wings and a long, narrow face," Hermione described.

"They don't sound very attractive," James commented.

"I'd like to see them," Sirius murmured, forgetting for a moment why Hermione could see them and not him.

Hermione turned away and buried her face in the foal's neck. Though in her mind she was hiding her face with the help of the Thestral, to the others it was still in full view as, from their point of view, she had just awkwardly hidden her face in thin air. James and Pandora saw as a few silent tears escape Hermione before she shook her head and stood up.

"No, you don't," she whispered, walking away.

This caught Sirius' attention as the other two glared at him. "That was tactless," Pandora reprimanded.

"Even I have to admit that that was insensitive, mate," James agreed with the blond.

"Shite I didn't mean that! I was just, you know, we can touch them and it's just so weird not seeing them and I'm curious to know what they look like... I wasn't thinking about what it means to see them! I didn't mean it in that way!"

James shrugged, going back to petting his Thestral. "Maybe not but you still said it. You just told Hermione, someone who's seen death, that you'd like to see 'death' as well."

"Argh, shite..." Was all Sirius could say again.

"You should apologize," Pandora advised, watching her hand idly trail over the invisible animal.

"To _Hermione_?!"

"Don't look at me. She's right, mate. Hermione helps you touch invisible 'death' and then you go and rub it in her face that you can't see it when she can. It was heartless," James stated, refusing to help his friend walk away from this one.

Sighing Sirius brushed off the dirt from his knees and went in search of the curly haired brunette. It only took him a few minutes to find her again. He leant against a tree and watched her crawl on the ground around the base of a tree until finally she came to a stop in front of a hollow hole and buried her arm all the way inside.

"Having fun?"

"Not as much as it might appear," she huffed, her cheek resting on the leaf covered ground.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

Hermione frowned as she moved her arm around, obviously trying to scope the farthest part of the hollow. "Isn't it glaringly evident? I'm trying to find a Chizpurfle," she enlightened him, her tone suggested she thought him quite thick for not having figured it out on his own. "This is the perfect place for one or two to be hiding."

"And you're not worried about what else could be hiding in there?" He tested.

Hermione chuckled. "Whatever's in there, I can handle it. Don't worry, I won't let it get to you," Hermione taunted.

"Ha, I'm sure I'd be able to deal with it before you even realized something was chewing off your foot," Sirius countered.

"I'm not sure that makes sense," Hermione contemplated, her brow furrowing.

Sirius pulled out his wand with a smirk. "It does if you look at your leg."

Hermione peered down at her leg in confusion and started at the sight of the Ashwinder wrapped around her ankle. Once he was certain she had noticed it, Sirius used his magic to gently peel the small snake off her and levitate it a safe distance away from the both of them, only for it to collapse into dust the moment it touched the ground.

"Hmm... It must have just laid its eggs," she commented, blankly.

Shaking her head as if reminding herself where she was, Hermione smiled at him sheepishly.

"Ah... Thank you for that," she said, genuinely grateful.

Not responding, Sirius slid down the tree and sat cross-legged across from her and observed as she closed her eyes in order to concentrate on what she was feeling inside the tree. They stayed silent for a moment before Sirius spoke once again.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean it in the way it sounded," he mumbled, not sure how to go about apologizing to the girl he continuously claimed to hate.

"That's alright... I overreacted," Hermione brushed him off, clumsily shrugging due to her position.

Sirius might have told someone else that they hadn't overreacted. He might have told them that he had been an insensitive jerk without even realizing it and she had had every right to be affected by his words. But seeing as it was Delacour he was dealing with, well... One couldn't expect too much from him so soon.

So instead he settled for repeating himself. "Still, I am sorry."

"I appreciate your apology," she accepted. "Though I must admit it's a surprise to hear those words coming from you. I don't think I've ever heard you utter them in the three years I've known you. At least, not directed at me."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Sirius snapped, gruffly.

"I wasn't going-Aha! Salazar, it's about time!" Hermione exclaimed in celebration of her success as she roughly tugged her hand out of the tree, her fist closed tightly over what Sirius suspected was a Chizpurfle.

"Salazar?" Sirius imitated her with wide eyes.

"Can you hand me the jar that's in my bag, please?" Hermione requested, not hearing what he said.

Sirius did as she asked, with a light glower on his face as he thought about the name she had articulated in her moment of joy. Even Ravenclaws don't generally use that name, it was _odd_. Standing, Hermione brushed off the leaves from her clothes and took the jar from Sirius without saying a word.

Still, Sirius couldn't get her exclamation out of his head. What self-respecting Ravenclaw used the name Salazar? Gryffindors used Godric, Hufflepuffs used Helga, Ravenclaws used Rowena (or at least, he assumed they did, though he had never actually heard them say it) and _Slytherins_ used Salazar. No one else. People did not simply use another house Founder's name! It just wasn't done!

Sirius couldn't help but glance at the frustrating witch from the corner of his eyes. She was annoyingly confusing. When he thought he had her figured out, she went and befriended his brother, then again when he was satisfied, he discovered she knew about Remus' "furry little problem" and finally when he was certain he knew all there was to know, she had cryptic conversations with Dumbledore, revealed a creepy Boggart, the Thestrals, used Salazar's name... She was challenging everything he knew and assumed to be true.

The young wizard continued to stare at the girl by his side for a moment. There was only one way to fit all the puzzle pieces together, Sirius knew. Getting close to the riddle was his best option, befriending the puzzle was probably the best way he was going to get answers to all his questions. And maybe - though Sirius thought the chances quite slim - just maybe if he managed to solve the enigma, he would actually like the person he discovered behind it. After all, if he was honest with himself, she didn't look _so_ bad with mud sneered all over her cheek and a happy smile gracing her lips... and she _was_ trying to help with his brother, so that had to mean that she wasn't completely awful, right?

The pair moved on, barely talking but remaining surprisingly civil despite everything Sirius was thinking about. It was about two hours after that that Hermione, Sirius, James and Pandora met up again, having collected all their necessary ingredients and finally, they left the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stood at the head of the table and surveyed all the people present. He had never expected the Order to grow so quickly. The reunion was taking place at the Potter's Manor today, many members were present as today was the initiation of quite a number of new members. Dumbledore nodded when Guillaume Delacour took a seat on his left and immediately started conversing with Aberforth who sat on Dumbledore's right. While there was no designated seating at Order meetings, no one other than those two ever sat by his side, even if the pair wasn't present, in which case the seats remained empty.

Taking his seat between the two he observed the new comers. The Potter hosts were currently guiding in the two Longbottoms and the father of the Prewett children. Finally, once everyone had settled down Dumbledore stood and greeted them all.

"It is a pleasure to see so many of you present this evening," Albus announced, looking over the people assembled. "For tonight, I would first like to welcome our new members."

The headmaster spread out his arms with a flourish as the three initiates stood. As Albus prepared to commence the ceremony of sorts, Moody moved forward hastily.

"I have a concern here," he stated, gruffly and when every eye landed on him, he went on. "Do you not find we are having too many new members, too quickly? Every month you bring in three or four new members. How do you know they are trustworthy? What if they do not consider our goals as the most important?" His words seem to spark existing questions in the other members because soon all those seated were shifting in their seats and mumbling to one another.

"You mustn't worry. I have consulted with the Source and have been assured that everyone I bring here is worthy of our trust," Dumbledore spoke with confidence.

"With the Source?" Kingsley questioned, having joined the Order just the previous month and not yet certain what the Source meant.

"Yes, the Source," Albus confirmed.

A few seemed to be satisfied, the Longbottoms especially, though Dumbledore knew that it was because they had unwavering faith in the Source due to the fact that Mark was the first to be saved by the Source's knowledge. Still, some did not appear convinced, Moody included.

"The Source that refuses to show their face? How can we blindly trust such a person?"

"You were not complaining the other day when it enabled us to save your son, Prewett," Aberforth snapped, effectively silencing the man.

"The Source has been invaluable to us. They have helped us save many people from Voldemort's unforgiving wand," Dumbledore reminded.

"That was fine, _before_ , when we suspected that it meant they were a spy in Voldemort's ranks but with this," Moody stated, waving at the two wizards and one witch. "How can they know about this? Being a spy does not allow you to know if these people have the same values and goals as us."

"You do not understand," Albus spoke, deciding he had no choice but to make up a plausible story that would encourage them all to trust Hermione. "The Source is no spy. The Source is a Seer," he explained, and in a way it was true: Hermione had seen the future, except that, unlike a Seer, she had lived it as well.

His declaration had triggered an instant silence as slowly realization spread. "This is why the Source remains hidden," Mark breathed, understanding why he could not thank his saviour in person.

A true Seer was extremely rare and even those who were fundamentally against Divination knew that having a Seer on their side was not something to take lightly.

"Indeed, this Seer is unlike any I have met before, this Seer does not make prophesies but is instead of the rarest type of Seer, not unlike the legendary Merlin himself," Albus declared. "Surely now you understand why the Source's identity must stay secret. If Voldemort were ever to discover who our Source was, he would stop at nothing to acquire them and if all else failed, kill them."

There was a brief moment where everyone spoke to one another, some voicing their concerns, others defending the Source. "What if something were to happen to you Albus? How would we be able to recognize the Source?" Kingsley questioned, after hearing that this was everyone's main worry.

"It's interesting that you should ask that, Kingsley!" Albus grinned. "As it happens, the Source took the Phoenix this year, same as you all, however, I have ensured that no one else has had the Phoenix placed at the same place as them. So if ever a person comes to you, with a Phoenix on the back of their neck, know that you can trust them with your life."

"The back of their neck?" Charles Potter repeated.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, looking quite pleased with himself.

"You knew these questions were coming weren't you? That's why you made the Source take the Phoenix, even if it was a risky decision." Dorea asked. "Now that we know, anyone of us could come across the Source and realize who they were because we noticed the Phoenix by accident."

Dumbledore sighed, glancing at his brother. "Indeed, but I did not _make_ the Source take the Phoenix. They chose to, knowing that there was a higher chance of being recognized by one of you but deciding it was a good idea to have a 'safety net' of sorts."

"Thinking about it now with all this talk of the Source, it's quite amazing how much most of us trust the Source! We don't even know their sexe or age, for heaven's sake!" Elphias Doge exclaimed.

Albus and Aberforth stared at one another, debating if Hermione's sexe could be revealed without causing too many problems. Hermione herself had said she trusted all those present, either because she had known them in her time or because she had known them to have died for the cause. Still Aberforth was obviously reluctant, fearing for the girl's safety, the more people knew, the more at risk she was but finally he nodded to his brother, unnoticed by everyone. He understood that they needed this, they needed to feel safe and reassured.

"The Source is a lady," Albus finally, admitted.

"A lady with a Phoenix tattoo on her neck. That should be enough," Guillaume declared. While he had never asked questions, he was fairly certain he knew who the Source was. There was only one person who was wise beyond her years and slipping in mysterious comments that made no sense... Until they finally did make sense and he was left to wonder how in the world she _knew_. "Our very own Phoenix Lady," he joked.

"Phoenix Lady?" Dorea giggled. "Could you have come up with anything more unoriginal?"

Despite the laughter, the name seemed to stick for many, finding it absolutely hilarious that they had just given their most important weapon such a ridiculous nickname.

* * *

It was finally the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Two more weeks and it would be the summer holidays. Hermione had already received letters from Guillaume, to plan the summer, one from Dorea, inviting her to come around for 'girl-time' and even one from Aberforth, saying that she was welcome to stop by the Hogshead at anytime.

Hermione was in the bookstore, her usual first stop while in Hogsmeade and Adrian was close by snapping a few pictures. Hermione frowned and dropped the hand that had been trailing over the books on the shelves as she faced her friend.

"Must you do that, Adrian?" She demanded, as he put down his camera after having just taken a photo of her.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It looked nice."

"But what was the purpose? I wasn't even looking at the camera," Hermione shook her head.

"There was none really... Just... Memories?" He explained.

Hermione smiled and shook her head going back to the books, Adrian doing the same as he picked one up and took a seat to read, knowing Hermione could stay here all morning. By two in the afternoon their stomachs started rumbling and the pair agreed that it was as good a time as any to have lunch. They strolled up the street and enjoyed the sun when they were almost run over by the Marauders as they raced out of an alley just by the Three Broomsticks.

Sirius sidled up to Hermione as the group of boys tried to straighten up and act 'normal'. "So... Delacour... Spying on us were you?"

"Course she was Sirius, we all know she has a crush on Moony," James scoffed, using the nickname they had come up with for Remus during the year.

"Getting jealous, Adrian?" Peter questioned, catching on to what his friends were doing.

Adrian started sputtering in protest but Hermione just rolled her eyes, knowing this was their way of distracting her and Adrian from figuring out what they were up too. They had undoubtably been up to no good and this simply confirmed her suspicions. "You caught me Sirius," Hermione sighed in defeat. "I just can no longer resist the pull I feel!"

There was a moment of silence as the boys slowly caught on to the fact that she was joking. Sirius broke the silence by whistling in admiration.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Remus," James quipped, pleasantly.

"Remus, mate, good going!" Sirius cheered, as they all started walking towards the Three Broomsticks. "I mean, sure you could have _tried_ to attract a better looking bird... But even if it is Delacour, it's still a bird!"

" _It's_?!" Hermione challenged, her eyebrows raised. "I am not an _it_ Sirius Orion Black!" The witch scolded.

"Could've fooled me," he muttered, entering the Three Broomsticks with a large grin on his face.

These last three months he had been taking every possible opportunity to rile her up, aggravating her during all their potion lessons and whenever they crossed paths. There was, however, a different tone to it now. Ever since the Thestral moment James, Hermione, Pandora and him had shared in the Dark Forest, there was a surprisingly, though very discrete, amiable undertone to all their arguments.

That was not to say that they never got truly angry at the other but it was an improvement. Hermione wouldn't admit it but she had grown to appreciate the healthy banter. The witch hurried inside the bar closely, yelling at the boy and taking the opportunity to insult his masculinity in revenge.

* * *

Tom Riddle was a patient man.

He was well aware that all 'good things came to those who wait'. There was, however, a limit to how long even he was willing to wait. He had made a simple request. Nothing outrageous. Nothing that would take so bloody long. It had been _months_. He had sent his scout out at the start of the school year and still he had no news. The Hogwarts school year was almost finished and he needed names before the students left for their holidays.

He needed _names_.

That was all he had asked for from the incompetent fool. _Honestly, how hard was it to go to Hogsmeade during a special Hogwarts weekend, scout out a few potential graduating recruits and then reporting back to him? Nevermind_ , Tom thought as he stormed up the hill. He was going to take care of it himself and then, once he had finished his job, he would dispose of the useless man he had sent out. He did not need that waste of life in his ranks.

As he walked, he told himself that this was precisely why he was inspecting the new Hogwarts graduates: to avoid getting stuck with such a worthless recruit in the future. He would not be making the mistake of recruiting such incompetent wizards ever again. His main purpose was to reach possible recruits before they went out into the world and developed ridiculous ideas on freedom, independence and equality. Rubbish, all of it, yet concepts that seemed to be infecting the young minds of bright young witches and wizards when they were left to their own devices.

Which was why Voldemort was currently entering the Three Broomsticks on a Saturday morning and taking a seat in the back of the pub where he could observe all the students coming and going. He smiled charmingly at the barista when she came over to ask for his order. The poor girl bustled away with a bright red blush as she went to get the order from Madame Rosmerta at the bar for the exceptionally handsome young man.

He spotted a few students he already had in his sights: the Malfoy spawn, the young Black boy and his cousins, Dolohov perhaps and the Snape boy also showed potential. There was so much choice that it was like a buffet for Voldemort to pick and choose from as he pleased. Tom stayed vigilant and prevented his mind from wandering. He nodded to the girl as she handed him his drink, sending her a seductive look.

"Thank you, love," he spoke with a smooth, deep voice that made most women melt.

It had the desired effect and as soon as she turned from him, he sneered at her retreating form. _Weak_ , like all the others. A few smiles, a husky look and some affectionate words and women - even men - were putty in his hands. They were all the same. It was so simple, almost boring really. One only needed a handsome face and a witty personality and the world was theirs for the taking. Obviously, none were as smart as Voldemort and none actually _did_ take the world, though they pretended to try - just like the Malfoy's, playing with politics and money, spouting extravagant words and messages, but in the end, doing nothing. Voldemort, however, was using it all to his advantage. He knew how to make men and women alike fall to their knees before him willingly. Oh how he enjoyed watching Abraxas Malfoy bow to him, begging to please _his_ Lord.

Voldemort sat back and sipped calmly from his drink, looking like a young business man taking a quick drink before heading home for the night. He sat impassively at his table happy to wait, as long as it ended up being worth it. Unfortunately for him, it was hours before he noticed the door opening for anyone worth his attention and he did not delay in turning his gaze to catch sight of the new arrivals. A group of four boys. Voldemort sneered when he recognized the Black blood-traitor. Strong magic put to such waste. Then came the Potter heir: from an influential, pureblooded family, but one that had been vocal in its 'light' values since the start of time. A shame really, since Voldemort could sense Potter's potent magic from where he sat.

Behind Potter and Black, Riddle spotted a tall sandy haired boy and curled his lips in disdain: the werewolf. He knew all about that boy and his father thanks to Greyback. Pitiful, but something Tom knew he could use if he ever wished to cause disorder one day. Voldemort's gaze briefly landed on the last boy: Tom could sense that the boy was weak, not only in magic but in personality. He could easily be wielded and used. A man that would never be anything more than a tool to either side. Useless, but nonetheless someone Voldemort would keep in mind. One never knew when they would be in need of a toothpick.

Voldemort sighed and sipped from his Firewhiskey. The start of the afternoon had been quite disappointing. There had been no one present capable of holding his interest. No one peaking his curiosity. This generation of Hogwarts student was just so bland and feeble. There was not one person to walk through that door interesting enough for Voldemort to consider. Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed again and Tom glanced up tiredly, expecting to see a similar array of banal, tedious students.

He was surprised, however, when his spell picked up on a rather powerful hum of magic. Excitedly, Tom eyed the pair. The first was a boy with long curly hair, he was clutching a wizarding camera and appeared to be somewhat ill at ease until a short brunette looped her arm through his. Voldemort pushed his spell towards the duo in order to figure out which one of the two was the one emanating the magic he sensed. Tom was admittedly amazed when his spell pulled his senses to the girl and weighed her power. Voldemort had never been happier to have created this spell: it allowed him to sense an individual's magical strength and right now it was allowing him to discover this substantial power.

Tom Riddle leaned forward in elation. Today had not been a complete waste after all. She might not be in the age group he had set out to originally recruit but Voldemort was not the type to throw away solid magical power so beautifully offered to him. He watched as she glared at the boys gathered in front of her, pulling her friend closer. Riddle was amused when two of the boys visible backed away, one out of nervousness, the other because he clearly didn't want to be involved. The two groups disliking each other would be exactly what he needed, it would be perfect. Voldemort smiled gleefully.

The other two boys, Potter and Black stepped forward, glaring back at the girl who was gesturing wildly at them. Unfortunately, Riddle noticed that no matter how brutal their words were or how hateful their glares were, there was an undercurrent of something that greatly displeased Tom. There seemed to be a hint of amusement and familiarity, excellently concealed by the two boys and the girl. The amused smile slipped off of Voldemort's face. That would _not_ do. The girl could not befriend the Black and Potter boys. If they became friends, it could complicate things. The power he sensed coming from her was delicious, mouth watering and he wanted it as his.

Voldemort was interested. He would use any means necessary to get her.

He wanted this girl.

What Tom Riddle wanted, Tom Riddle got.

And Tom Riddle was nothing if not patient.

 **A/N: So this is the end of year 3! I hope you enjoyed it! Things are going to get a bit more active in the following years, and from this chapter, I guess you can imagine why!** **People are getting curious, for different reasons but all reasons linking back to the one and only Hermione!** **Shhhhhh... Okay, I won't say more.**

 **Please tell me what you think!**

 **PS: next chapter, there will be a bit of summer, but then: Hogwarts again!**


	20. Chapter 20: Sleeping Beauty

**A/N: Hello! Here it is: Summer and the start of year 4. Please tell me what you think and don't hesitate to point out mistakes or** **inconsistencies! I really appreciate it!**

 **I love all your reviews! Thank you so much for it, you readers for this story are so far the best reviews I've ever had. And thank you for the follow and favourites and alerts!**

 **Disclaimer: IDOA.**

Hermione looked up and met the older man's gaze. It was only a moment before she went back to scribbling on the paper. Having finished, she placed the quill on the desk and sat back to read what she had written. Once done, she re-read it a second time to be sure everything was clearly dated and explained. When she was a hundred percent satisfied, she flicked her wrist and let her wand slip into her right hand. Hermione waved her wand with a practised ease and slowly passed it over the whole parchment, drying the ink with a spell. Finally, she rolled up the paper and sealed it with a different charm and held it out to Albus Dumbledore.

"That's for the rest of the summer," she told him.

"Thank you, Miss Delacour. All this information has been invaluable for the Order," Albus said, gratefully.

"It's natural to help."

"Now... I was wondering about your opinion or knowledge on possible future Order members?" He waited for Hermione to gesture for him to continue before speaking again. "What do you say about the McKinnons, the Lupins, Fabian and Gideon Prewett?"

"Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon will join you, as will their daughter when she graduates. You can trust them. In my time, they sacrifice their lives for the Order," Hermione recalled. "The Lupins, however, try to avoid everything to do with the First Wizarding War because of the attack they survived ten years ago. Despite that, Remus does join when he graduates along with James and Sirius. Fabian and Gideon also join, very loyal to the light, which results in Arthur joining the Order as well, next year. In my timeline, Molly, his wife, didn't join the Order in the First War because she had to raise toddlers, but who knows if that will change? I can assure you that you can trust them all, but you might not want to bother with the Lupins. I doubt that even in this new time they will join the Order."

Dumbledore appeared thoughtful as he considered her recommendations. There was something that peaked his interest, though. "You mentioned Messrs Lupin, Potter and Black but why not Mr. Pettigrew? Those four are always attached to the hip."

"Don't let Pettigrew join the Order. Timelines might change but that _rat_ will not. He'll do anything for attention or praise. And even if he's a different man from the one I knew, I still wouldn't even trust him as far as I could throw him."

The headmaster raised his eyebrows but left it at that. "Alright. I believe you have reason to say such things and it would be quite foolish for me to start doubting your judgment now."

* * *

"Surely, this is some sort of joke?" Hermione demanded, as she stormed out of her room in a fancy, knee length dress.

Guillaume looked his sister over, chuckling at the deep frown marring her face and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, the Potters insisted. You look nice, though."

"Why would Dorea do such a thing?! She knows that my relationship with the boys is tenuous at best," Hermione argued, ignoring his compliment.

"Perhaps she hopes that forcing you to spend time together will push forward a stronger friendship?" Guillaume offered, handing Hermione a dark purple velvet cloak.

"Where does this come from?" The witch inquired, raising her arms and turning around in an attempt to catch a better look at what she was wearing.

"Your cousin would be offended, sister," Guillaume reprimanded. "Clarice had that cloak specially made for you. It was one of your Christmas presents."

"Merlin! Was it really?" The young teenager questioned, summoning a full-length mirror with a wave of her wand. "It's the first time I've forgotten about a gift given to me," she mumbled.

"Perhaps you're simply not yet used to receiving so many at once?" The bachelor suggested.

"Possibly," Hermione agreed, still looking at the cloak in the mirror. "It's beautiful though. I can't believe I forgot about it! How dreadful of me!"

"Your secret is safe with me, _ma puce_ ," Guillaume assured, wrapping his arm around his sister and giving her a quick hug. "Now are you ready to leave?"

"Almost. I just need to take care of my hair," she told him, turing back to the mirror and conjuring a hair tie.

In a swift movement, Hermione had gathered her hair into an attractively messy bun. She turned, prepared to tell her brother she was good to go only to find him standing stiffly behind her, his gaze hard.

"Guillaume? What's the matter?" Hermione asked, worried.

Her French brother merely raised a hand to silence her before shutting his eyes and swallowing with some difficulty. This only served to make Hermione even more concerned and she placed careful hand on his arm.

"Guillaume?" She repeated.

When the man finally opened his eyes again, she noticed fear flashing in the depths of his gaze. " _Hermione_ ," he breathed, as if in pain.

He could barely speak. He had suspected she was the Source, now affectionately named 'the Pheonix Lady', in fact he had been almost certain... but to have it so unexpectedly confirmed terrified him to the core. He had been told that she was in danger when he took her in but it was _now_ , when he noticed the phoenix tattoo on her neck that he realized _just_ _how_ _much_ danger she was in. Now that he knew for sure that she was the Pheonix Lady... It made his worry for her so much worse. Not only was she a Seer, but if the Dark Lord ever learnt about it and what she was doing with her powers, he would do everything he could to kill her.

Guillaume, without warning, pulled her into a tight hug and buried his face in her neck. Raising his hand, he tugged at her hair tie and removed it from her hair. Then stepping away, he raked his fingers through her curls and made sure her hair covered her neck completely. "You should keep your hair down for the dinner tonight. A number of Order members will be present," he explained, his voice soft.

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding and her left hand quickly flew to the back of her neck to cover her tattoo. "I completely forgot about it!" The brunette exclaimed and then moved away from him with her brow furrowed. "Then that means that you know about me?"

"Dumbledore told us where the Pheonix Lady would have her tattoo, that way we wouldn't have to worry about her identity," he told her, smiling at her grimace at the name. "I've suspected it was you for a while now, but to have it so obviously confirmed was shocking. Now I can no longer deny it."

"I'm sorry. I should have been more careful," she admitted.

"Probably," Guillaume nodded. "Though I cannot fault you: at Hogwarts you needn't worry since no one but Minerva and Albus are members and they, from what I've gathered, already know about you. It's simply anywhere else that you should be wary."

Hermione nodded. "How did you know McGonagall knows about me?" Hermione frowned. It had been agreed when she decided to aid the Order that the only one to acknowledge knowing the source of information would be Albus, and maybe one day, Aberforth.

"She was there on the day I picked you up from the Hogwarts hospital wing," he reminded her.

"Fair enough," Hermione accepted.

She faced the mirror one last time and cast a sticking charm on her hair, so that it wouldn't move away from her neck and reveal her tattoo during the evening. Taking a deep breath, Hermione vanished the mirror and smiled at her brother. "Shall we go?"

"We shall," Guillaume agreed with a grin, though the turmoil could still be seen in his eyes as he wrapped his arm around his young sister.

* * *

Hermione, happy to be away from the noisy, half-drunk adults, flopped down onto the window settee, covered in fluffy pillows. She took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of old books and rain. After a few minutes, she stood again and wandered the shelves in search of a book. When she found one that caught her fancy she walked back to the settee and settled herself comfortably against a pile of pillows, stretching her body along the window seat. Hermione took a brief moment to enjoy the grey view of the Potter Manor gardens, made blurry by the raindrops hitting against the window panes before turning her attention to the book.

The witch lost track of time and ended up falling asleep, the meal from that night weighing heavily in her stomach. It was an hour later, when the four Marauders entered the Potter Library, having just left the basement where they had isolated themselves in order to attempt to refine a prank they were preparing for the start of the next school year.

"I'm telling you: the problem isn't with how I'm casting the _glisseo_ spell! It's your modified _orchideous_ spell that's not right! Or maybe even Peter's _obscuro_!" Sirius defended, striding purposefully towards the large book placed on a podium in the centre of the Library.

"My _orchideous_ charm is fine!" James claimed.

"James, I don't see how you can even try and blame **my** _glisseo_ spell as the problem when we're concerned by the injuries caused by **your** flowers."

"I personally think all three of your spells need perfecting," Remus muttered.

"Nobody asked you Moony," Sirius moaned. "Obviously, your spell was perfect, don't rub it in, yeah?"

Remus grinned at his friend and shrugged as he strolled away, disappearing in the shelves. Sirius turned back to the large book tapping his wand on the cover and waiting as it snapped open, flipping through hundreds of pages. Sirius scanned the page it came to a stop on and sauntered off. Sighing, the other two boys followed him as he fetched the book they needed in order to determine what spell was the problem. In silent agreement they went to sit on the window settee but were surprised to see it was already occupied.

James snorted. "Figures Hermione would disappear in the middle of a dinner party to read," he commented.

"And what exactly are we doing?" Remus questioned, pointing to the book Sirius was carrying as he appeared from around a shelf.

"That's different, we're researching for a prank," Sirius claimed, handing Remus the book. "Woaw! Don't touch her," he snapped his tone outraged when Peter deftly shoved the sleeping girls shoulder, his voice low so as to not disturb Hermione. "You want to wake her up?"

Remus raised an eyebrow and looked over at his best mate from his seat next to Hermione. "Why Sirius, I didn't know you cared," he teased, his voice low as well.

"I don't, but can you imagine her snarky voice if we were to wake her?" Sirius complained, as if he could already hear her voice. Then he moved over to Remus' side and leaned over the book. "So have you found what we're looking for?" He inquired.

"Not yet," Moony sighed.

James levitated an armchair over so that he could sit across from his two friends while they searched through the book. Peter, on the other hand, who didn't trust his ability to successfully levitate such a heavy object decided on a safer option and plucked a pillow from Hermione's side, causing her to slip lower on her side. The young Potter boy shoved his friend sharply and threw him a glare.

"Be careful, yeah? She could have fallen to the floor if you had been rougher!" He scolded.

Peter shot him an apologetic look before joining the whispered conversation between Sirius and Remus. It wasn't long until all four of them had forgotten about the girl sleeping beside them, entirely immersed in their quiet discussion. It was only when the clock hit 1:18 a.m. that a noise louder than a whisper was heard in the Potter Library. The four boys simultaneously turned to look at the waking girl.

"What?" Hermione moaned as she rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up on her left elbow.

"Ah Sleeping Beauty wakes!" James teased.

"Beauty?" Hermione grimaced.

"Even she knows it's not true," Sirius laughed.

"Did I miss something? What are you all doing here?" Hermione questioned, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

"We're researching. Besides, this is James' house, we can go where we want," Peter claimed.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from frowning at the boy before she shook her head. "I know that, what I meant was: When did you get here? You four have been missing since the end of dinner."

"Preparing for the new school year," Remus decided to tell her.

"Ah, prank work," the witch murmured.

"You know us better than you should," James complained.

"No, I don't," she disagreed. "Anyone at Hogwarts could have guessed you weren't preparing for the new school year by doing educational research."

"She has a point," Peter granted.

"Thank you," Hermione said, with a smile. "Do you need help?"

"NO! We do not!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Actually," Remus started, ignoring the glares he received from his three friends. "We've been having trouble with the workings of our prank. In this prank we need a big reservoir of petals and so James transformed the _orchideous_ spell but it still doesn't work perfectly. We keep getting stems with the petals and we're worried that the stems will hurt students."

Hermione bobbed her head thoughtfully. "It's quite simple, all you need to do is use _petalis,_ or for more precision _orchideous_ _petalis_. You shouldn't have that problem afterward."

Testing it out, James waved his wand, uttered the new spell and out of the blue, the five teenagers were covered in different coloured petals. "It worked!" Sirius proclaimed, grabbing two handfuls and throwing them in opposite directions.

The petals landed on Hermione and James, causing both of them to retaliate and soon, the five of them were randomly throwing flower petals at each other. This continued until a stern voice scolded them from the door way.

"James Potter! Boys! What have I said about using magic in the Library?!" Dorea Potter reprimanded.

"Not to," they muttered, avoiding her strict glare.

* * *

"Rise, my boy," Tom ordered, as he looked down at the pale skinned, blond Malfoy heir.

Hesitantly, Lucius Malfoy stood and glanced back at his father who nodded his encouragement. Taking a fortifying breath, Lucius faced the Dark Lord.

"It would be a pleasure to join your ranks, my Lord," he spoke, his voice soft as he tried to disguise a light tremor.

Though he would never admit it to anyone, he truly wished to be anywhere but here at the moment. His father could say whatever he wanted but this was a disgrace. Bowing, kneeling and serving was beneath him, a _Malfoy_. Lucius felt fear, yes, but mostly anger and rage. He was a proud, pureblooded Malfoy and should never be reduced to such a low position. This Dark Lord was powerful, admirable in his goals against mudbloods and everything Lucius would like to be one day. Still, Lucius was _embarrassed_ that he had just been kneeling before this man. It was unacceptable. His father had raised him to believe he was better than everyone but then when this Voldemort fellow showed up, Abraxas was quick to prostrate himself and make Lucius prostrate as well. It was wrong and Lucius hated it.

"You will not be joining my ranks yet, my boy. You are too young. You still have two years at Hogwarts left before I will even consider letting you take the Mark," Voldemort hissed.

Lucius' face remained impassive as he fought to keep his emotions concealed. _The Mark. Disgusting._ Lucius would do many things for power but taking a slave mark was not one of them. He knew about this Mark the Dark Lord was talking about and he knew that it was nothing but a Mark to show one was enslaved. If Lucius ever took that Mark he would be nothing more than a slave to this man. Once again, Lucius could only think one thing as he observed the Dark Lord: _unacceptable._

"No, you will not be joining my ranks yet. Though, if you please me, you will be rewarded handsomely," he paused, eyeing the boy who was standing before him. "You will serve me as a spy of sorts. I need information about a certain student at Hogwarts. You will get it for me."

Lucius tilted his head as he considered Tom's words. This wouldn't be so bad. He knew enough about the Dark Lord to know that if someone interested him, they had to have value, whether that value came in the form of knowledge, magical power or something else, it was important value nonetheless. While he would be gathering information for the Dark Lord, he could _also_ gather information for himself.

"What is the student's name, Sire?" Lucius inquired.

"That, I do not know," Voldemort spat, obviously very vexed by this detail.

Lucius glanced at his father in confusion. How was he supposed to gather information on a student if he didn't know their name? Before Lucius could ask more questions and most likely anger the powerful wizard before him, Voldemort spoke again.

"It is a young girl. I saw her during a Hogwarts weekend at Hogsmeade. She appeared to be about thirteen years old," Tom Riddle described.

 _A third year, then._ Lucius concluded in his mind.

"She was short, with curly brown hair. Lightly tanned skin," Voldemort detailed, hoping the more detail he gave the easier it would be for the Malfoy spawn to find her. "Acceptably presentable. She was with a tall, curly black haired boy who had a camera with him."

 _This narrowed down the possibilities by quite a lot_ , Lucius thought as already a small list of students formed in his mind, _not many students wander around with cameras._

"And she was arguing with some boys: Black, Potter, Lupin and one other boy. Though, only Black and Potter seemed to really be fighting with her," Riddle finished.

"Ah... Miss Delacour," Lucius concluded.

"You know who she is?"

"Yes, she is a Ravenclaw. Hermione Delacour," Lucius informed.

"Delacour, a pureblood," Tom spoke, sounding pleased. "This is even better... But why would a Delacour be at Hogwarts?"

"It was said that her parents were murdered by a Dark Wizard, so she came to live with her brother here in Britain."

"Interesting," the wizard murmured. "What else do you know about her?"

"Not much," Lucius shrugged. "Only that apart from Mr. Malden, her only close friends are Miss Pandora Astor and Mr. Remus Lupin."

Voldemort nodded, lost in thought until finally he stood from his throne like seat. "You will do whatever you can to get more intel on this girl. Befriend her if you must. I want to know everything about her. Everything from what spells she can use all the way down to what she likes to eat!"

Lucius simply shook his head, extremely curious as to why Voldemort was showing so much interest in this girl.

"My Lord?" He ventured. "May I ask why you are so intent on getting so much information about this girl?"

Tom paused and observed the young boy before him, he could sense Lucius' ambition and thirst for power. He smiled and stepped over to the boy. "Usually I would say it was none of your concern, but in this case, I believe that if you understand, you will be even _more_ inclined to discover her secrets... You see, Hermione Delacour is full of power. Magical power. I have never sensed so much magical power within a person. She could become an incredible weapon. But for her to become a weapon I need to know her secrets, her likes and dislikes: things that will allow me to manipulate her into eating out of the palm of my hand," Voldemort whispered in the boy's ear so no one else would hear.

He then stepped back and watched his words take effect. The hook was cast and it was only a matter of seconds before Lucius Malfoy took the bait. Voldemort sneered when the glint of hunger entered Lucius' gaze. _Predictable_ , Tom spat in his mind, _but oh so perfect_.

* * *

Hermione was struggling with her trunk as she attempted to lift it above her head - for some reason forgetting about her magic, something she did rather often - and stow it away for the journey back to Hogwarts. Suddenly, pale hands were on her luggage and putting it away for her. Grateful, Hermione turned to thank the boy who had helped her.

"Thank y-," she stuttered, when her eyes met steely gray ones. "Y-ou-ou," she finished lamely, unsettled.

"It was no trouble, Miss Delacour," Lucius purred, smiling at the young witch that was at least a head shorter than him. "Lucius Malfoy, at your service."

"Hermione Delacour, but you already know that," she spoke, trying to sound unaffected.

"Indeed," he agreed, ducking his head in a formal greeting. "I am sorry for not having introduced myself sooner as pureblood manners dictate I should have."

"That is not a problem," Hermione dismissed, almost wanting to say that she could hardly blame him, she had not introduced herself to him either. They were both at fault.

"Would you like me to accompany you to your compartment?" He offered.

"I am quite capable, thank you," the witch declined.

"Please, as a sixth year prefect, it is my duty," he replied.

"Your duty is to walk a fourteen year old fourth year to her seat?" She asked with a sceptically raised eyebrow.

"Nothing as precise, but my duty does include making sure the younger students are all comfortable."

Sighing, Hermione couldn't find a reason to refuse and nodded. "Very well, your company would be appreciated."

As they strolled slowly down the corridor, Lucius kept a watchful eye on the girl he had been instructed to approach. "What do you think of Hogwarts, Miss Delacour? As a member of the Delacour House you must have expected to go to Beauxbatons, no?"

"I was originally supposed to, yes, but then I moved to England with my brother and Hogwarts seemed like the obvious choice. I don't regret that decision at all," Hermione replied, wanting to reach her compartment as quickly as possible.

A group of Slytherins passed the pair and eyed them curiously. Hermione felt as if she was being evaluated and judged. No doubt she was actually. Wanting to escape, Hermione scanned the compartments in search of anyone she knew. She noticed Severus and Regulus but decided against them, because chances were, Lucius would try and join them. Her best bet was Pandora or Remus. Surprisingly, she spotted Lily sitting in the Marauders' compartment, huddled around a book with Remus, lost in a fierce debate.

"Ah! Here is my stop," Hermione claimed with a large, relieved grin.

Lucius frowned. "With Potter and Black? I was under the impression you weren't on good terms with them..." He trailed off.

"I'm not!" Hermione quickly let out without thought. "No, I was looking for Lily and Remus!"

"Lupin and the _mud-muggleborn_ ," he sneered, catching himself before using the insult.

"Yes." Hermione's tone was curt, having noticed what he was about to say. "I would appreciate it if you didn't use such words in my presence," she stated, with a pointed look that made it clear to Lucius what she was referring to. "As it is, I believe this is where you leave me."

Lucius looked behind Hermione and smirked, before giving a small bow, kissing the back of her hand and standing straight again, leaving his hand to linger in hers. "It was _enchanting_ to meet you, _Miss Delacour_ ," he purred, sending her an intense look before finally releasing her hand and turning away from her.

Hermione watched him leave with a confused frown on her face. She had absolutely no idea what had just happened but she couldn't repress the feeling of having just been cheated and Hermione knew that Lucius' Malfoy sudden interest with her did most likely not bode well. Nevertheless, she shoved her thoughts aside as she entered the compartment and joined Lily and Remus.

"Got buddy, buddy with Malfoy," Sirius sneered.

"No, I did not," Hermione answered, despite him obviously not asking.

"Could've fooled me."

"And you know," she continued, not hearing him. "Even if I was 'buddy-buddy' with him, you would have no right to judge, it is none of your concern."

"You seem to be awfully friendly with one too many Slytherins," he muttered.

"One of those Slytherins _happens_ to be your brother," Hermione pointed out.

"Exactly," Sirius mumbled.

"I thought things were getting better with you and Regulus?" James mentioned.

Sirius snorted. "Spoke to the idiot twice and both times he appeared to be suffering greatly from my presence. Whatever, I don't really care any more," Sirius shrugged.

However, Hermione could very easily see that he was not as unaffected as he pretended to be. She would have to talk with the younger Black boy again.

 **A/N: Soo... Hope you enjoyed that!**

 **Important: After one review, I would like to make sure it is clear: Only Order members can see the phoenix tattoo on other members, anyone else would see nothing but bare skin. BTW the tattoo is not black either, but something more discrete, it's like a phoenix shaped** **birthmark! Of course, as you know from this chapter, there is still a risk but less so since only about two dozen people might accidentally see the tattoo. At this moment of the story. The Order is still young. :D Hopefully, anyone else with that question on how she would hide it is now satisfied.**


	21. Chapter 21: His prey

**A/N: Here it is, year 4! (PS. I really just wanted to put this out there in case some of you are getting lost: Year 1 goes basically from chapter 1 to 9, Year 2 goes from chapter 10 to 15, Year 3 goes from chapter 16 to 20 and Year 4 starts in this chapter until I don't know yet... Because even though I know what main things will happen, I have yet decided about small details and how much I will write about/lead up to the main things.)**

 **Enjoy and please tell me what you think! I loved all your reviews! I appreciate the honest opinions and the sentiments! I'm especially pleased to know I convinced a reader that my story might just be worth the time of day! Hopefully it can stay that way!**

 **Everyone with questions concerning the placement of the mark can read this but specially** roon0: **It's true that I had to think long and hard on where to place the tattoo and at first, I considered the neck as the most idiotic place ever, as you do. But then... A plan started to form in my mind: 1. Hermione has enough bushy hair to hide any type of mark. 2. Hermione won't make the same mistake twice (tying up her hair in front of Order members). 3. She can conceal it like she conceals her arm with a glamour charm (minus the arm cover, which though not mentioned, she still wears, but not all the time) when she really wants to tie her hair in public. And most _importantly,_ 4\. It all fits into my evil plans! Hahaha! Anyway, I hope this eases your mind on the matter! Let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: Taliesin comes from Merlin. I like the name.**

Aberforth was currently wiping down one of his beer mugs, eyeing his dirty customers and frowning at the brown goat that had just wandered around his counter to lay at his feet. Where the goat had come from, he had no idea. All he knew was that the goat was getting kicked out as soon as he was finished cleaning his mugs.

"A pint, Abe," one of his habitual customers hollered from the far corner.

With a nod Aberforth had a pint filled and floating over to the loud man. Suddenly, the door opened and in strolled a content looking Hermione and smiling far too jovially for such an early hour in the morning. Then again, who was he to judge? He had about five patrons in his bar far too _drunk_ for this hour of the day. The young witch hopped onto a bar stool and leaned forward.

"Hello Abe," she greeted.

"Hermione," the old man grunted, ignoring the curious looks some of the consumers were throwing his way.

He wasn't surprised by their confused looks. Being part of the usual clientele, they were used to Aberforth always throwing out Hogwarts students, unless they were Seventh Years, but this girl was clearly _not_ a Seventh Year. However, Aberforth merely grunted and pulled out a mug, filled it with what was obviously pumpkin juice and slid it over to the young girl. _Perhaps,_ a few of the drinkers thought. And that was where their thought processes ended, as they were truly too drunk to think of anything more at the moment and honestly they could care less. What the barman did was his business.

"What are you doing here?"

"First Hogsmeade weekend. I'm a Fourth Year so I can come down at anytime in the morning I want. I don't need to wait for McGonagall like the Third Years," she explained.

"Should I expect you at my bar this early every Hogsmeade weekend?" He questioned as she took a sip of her juice.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she spoke. "Not _every_ weekend. As welcoming as your bar is, I'd rather _not_ spend all my time here."

"So why are you here? I have a feeling this isn't just a social call," he muttered, sending a glass of fire whiskey flying towards the one man nursing an empty glass near his face.

The witch sighed. "It's not..." she admitted. "I'm actually- I was wondering if you might know anything about Merlin's book."

The crash was deafening. Hermione started in surprise, eyes wide and hands slamming onto the counter top. The clients stopped drinking and turned to face the pair at the counter. The goat jumped up from Aberforth's feet and ran away, hiding under one of the tables at the centre of the room. Aberforth's gaze was intense as he stared at the girl he had grown to care for over the past three years. Shaking his head, Aberforth waved his wand and bent down to pick up the repaired mug.

"Don't talk about such things, Hermione," he snapped.

"Why not?" She demanded. "You know who I am! I need answers- I need to know why I'm here! That book is the only chance I've got!"

Aberforth glanced around warily and cast a spell to avoid eavesdroppers. This was a very delicate conversation to be had and one that he could not risk being overheard.

"That book is not something to be trifled with."

"Perhaps not but it is the only thing that could possibly give me answers! Merlin sent me here, you know that! He gave me his Magic! I need to know _why!"_

Aberforth rolled his neck, shutting his eyes for a brief moment. "No, you don't. Just accept that he gave you his Magic so that you could be here. Don't worry about the Book, Hermione. Only death and pain come to those who seek it."

Hermione stood up moving closer to the man. "Please Aberforth..." Hermione pleaded. "I'm in a new time, with new Magic. I have no idea who I am anymore. Even my Magic is no longer mine. Merlin's Book, his Book could give me the answers I need."

"But do you truly need those answers?"

Hermione hesitated: she knew it was a risky business to go looking for the Book, she knew that if she found it and managed to access it, the Book would be her responsibility, hers to protect. No one had ever managed to take the Book from it's resting place but all knew that if they did ever reach the Book, they could not make the decision to do so lightly. Having the Book was a lot of responsibility, a burden to carry for the remainder of the possessor's life.

 _"Yes,_ " Hermione said, urgently. "Surely Merlin meant for me to have it! Otherwise why else would he write a book and hide it somewhere only his Heir could find it? What would be the point? He knew he had no Heirs! But I have his Magic, I'm the closest thing to an Heir he could get. I can feel it deep down, maybe it's his Magic or maybe it's just me, but I can feel it. That book was made for me, something the Four Founders also believe.

"Surely you understand why I need it? Of course, I have my suspicions as to why I was sent here and what I need to change, but what if I'm wrong? what if Merlin intended something else entirely? Or what if I am doing exactly as he wanted but his Book contains ideas or explanations that would make everything so much easier and faster for me?"

Aberforth watched Hermione carefully before nodding his head and placing the mug on the shelf. He would tell her what he knew. That didn't mean she'd ever _find_ The Book. It had been centuries and still no one had seen hide nor hair of The Book. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that any who even came close to finding The Book ended up dead.

He sighed. "Very well, it seems your mind is made up and nothing I can say will change your mind. Come back during your next Hogsmeade weekend. I'll tell you everything I know. Which is not much, anyway."

"Why not now, while I'm here?"

"It's not a conversation to have in public. And some research needs to be done."

The Delacour witch smiled at the man gratefully, knowing that she shouldn't push her luck. Jumping off the high stool Hermione walked calmly away and turned before reaching the door. "Why aren't you using the spell I gave you? Your mugs would be much cleaner," she laughed.

"Hermione," the old man sighed, shaking his head. "The dirty glasses keep the students away."

* * *

The bushy haired brunette left the Hog's Head and went straight for the bookstore, hoping for a new bit of light reading. The bell above the door rang as she pushed open the door and smiled at the owner standing behind the register and nodded to the two men standing at the counter politely in greeting. So lost was she in her thoughts of Merlin's book that she didn't really take in their appearance. If she had been more alert, she would have most likely noticed that the two men were watching her move around. One in curiosity and the other in hunger.

It was just as Hermione had found one book she wanted that a hand landed on the small of her back. Gasping in surprise Hermione turned to face the man as she dropped the book, only for a hand attached to a different body to catch it before it hit the ground. Hermione's eyes first landed on Lucius Malfoy who smirked at her.

"Forgive me, Miss Delacour," he apologized. "I did not mean to frighten you."

"I was merely surprised," Hermione shook her head.

"I believe this was yours," another deeper voice spoke from her other side, a pale hand holding out the tome she had dropped.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she heard the voice. It was the most beautiful and mesmerizing voice she had ever heard. It was deep, as smooth as velvet and every word spoken was perfectly articulated with one of the most wonderful accents she had ever heard. She turned slowly as she took back her book.

"Yes, thank you, Sir," she thanked him.

Hermione's reaction to his voice was nothing compared to her reaction to his physique. She had never thought herself to be superficial, to be the kind of person easily affected by a man's looks but she was still female and this man standing before her was absolute perfection. He stood straight, with a perfect posture and he was tall. His skin was pale but unblemished and contrasted magnificently with his black locks, styled in such a way that it was brushed away from his face in what seemed to be a careless but tidy manner. His wizarding robe spoke of status and riches beyond anything she knew, a mix of black, green and silver materials that gave him a regal appearance. When her gaze finally landed on his face her breath caught in her throat when she noticed his pink lips, his pearly white teeth that would be the dream of any dentist, his nose that had obviously never been broken, his gracefully arched eyebrows and his startlingly sky blue eyes. The man grinned smugly and victoriously when he found all the signs he usually found in a woman who was getting ready to waltz right into the palm of his hands.

"I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of meeting, Miss... I'm afraid I don't recall what Lucius called you," he said, his tone regretful and sheepish.

"Miss Delacour, Sir," Hermione smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.

The man grinned, taking her hand in his. "Please, call me Tom," he introduced himself, noticing as something in her gaze shifted and she appeared a bit less dazed.

"Tom?" She asked, her heart frozen in fear as her whole body tensed.

"Yes," Tom confirmed. "Tom Riddle."

Hermione's hand snapped out of his just before he could place a respectful kiss to the back of her hand. She cursed her knee-jerk reaction when the Dark Lord glanced up at her in genuine surprised. Hoping to smooth over the incident and not draw attention to it, Hermione smiled at him and Lucius.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riddle," she claimed, causing Tom to frown when she took a step away. "Lucius, I shall see you around but I really must get going. I'm to meet with my friends in a few minutes."

Saying nothing more, Hermione tried to leave the store calmly. But the gaze she could feel burning into her back made her incredously nervous. Tom Riddle's gaze was half amused, half annoyed. The girl had had the same reaction to him as all women did and for a moment, Voldemort had believed that acquiring her would be as easy as everyone else he set his sights on. That changed however, as soon as they touched and he introduced himself. The Dark Lord was really quite shocked when she wrenched her hand from his. Never had someone ever acted in such a way with him. Indeed, those who knew of him as the Dark Lord would react with fear, those who knew nothing about him would blush or preen under his attention. Hermione Delacour... She had reacted in neither fashion.

Tom leaned against the shelf, his thumb rubbing against his lower lip as he smirked, staring after the girl. What a curious witch she was. Though he had not immediately recognized the look in her eyes when she pulled away from him, as soon as she forced a strained smile on her face while excusing herself, he had identified the emotion she was holding back.

 _Disgust. Pure,_ _unadulterated disgust._ Tom chuckled to himself. That was the first time he had ever been faced with disgust. Fear, hate, rage, respect, awe... Those were all emotions Riddle was familiar with, always directed towards him and always with a reason. Hermione Delacour had no reason to look at him in such a way. He had never met her before and he had certainly done nothing to deserve her disgust. _Not that I know of,_ he thought.

* * *

"Well, the Rat Plan was a complete bust," James declared, dropping down into a seat across from Hermione who was in the Library with Pandora and Adrian.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, at a loss.

"You're forgiven. Though, it _is_ all your fault," he accused, with a glare.

Hermione frowned. "I don't understand?"

"The Rat Plan that you gave us the 'go ahead' on, of course!" James said, his tone suggesting this was obvious.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about," she shook her head.

"Moony's in a right state ever since we told him you agreed with us!"

"But I never agreed to any Rat Plot," Hermione denied, the deep frown still in place.

 _"Plan._ And yes, yes, you did! I remember, we were sitting at this very table and you told me, Sirius and Peter to: 'Do whatever you want, if it makes you happy.' And the Rat Plan made me and the boys very happy," the wizard spoke, nodding solemnly to his own words.

"When was this? How come I don't remember?"

"You don't remember?" James asked in what seemed to be exaggerated innocence. "You were reading the _Hogwarts: A History_ book," he recalled, hoping to jog her memory.

"I was reading?! Well, no wonder I don't remember! I wasn't paying attention to a word you and the others were saying!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You weren't?" James questioned, with wide eyes full of fake surprise.

"No, I wasn't, thus I have nothing to do with this Rat Plot."

"Rat _Plan,"_ James corrected.

Hermione glared at him. "That is irrelevant."

"Perhaps, but nonetheless, you told us we could do it, and since we were counting on your knowledge to discourage us from possible mistakes: it's your fault it went wrong."

"Since when did I become your official Prank Advisor?!" The brunette demanded.

"Um, since this summer when you helped with the Petal Prank," Sirius claimed as if it were obvious as he joined the group.

"I refuse," Hermione stated.

"You can't, you've already been appointed the position," Peter claimed, as he too sat at the table.

"Without my consent!" Hermione argued.

"Doesn't matter," James shrugged.

Hermione's gaze went from one boy to another before her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You should have at least made sure I was listening!" She scolded.

"Merlin! You're supposed to be one of the smartest witches in our year! The whole point was that we wanted to ask you when you weren't listening!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, confused.

Sirius sighed as if this were an explanation he didn't think was necessary for someone with a brain. "We asked you your advice on the prank while you were reading so that you wouldn't be paying attention, and since you would be annoyed with us disturbing you, you would agree with anything we said and encourage us to do it quickly. Thus, when we went through with the prank and it ended up going wrong, we wouldn't be to blame: you would. Being our Prank Advisor and all that."

"What's the point of having a Prank Advisor, if you don't actually want to be advised?" Hermione inquired, her voice exhausted and resigned.

"So that we can blame the Prank Advisor when things go wrong, _obviously,"_ James proclaimed.

" _Fine_ ," Hermione breathed, tired. "So this Rat Plot-"

"Plan," James corrected, once again.

Hermione waved him away. "-on Remus went wrong and when he woke up, he blamed all of you?" The boys nodded. "And then you blamed me?" They nodded. "And he believed you?" This time the shook their heads negatively. "Then it was pointless to blame me."

"No, it was not, because even if he didn't believe us, we know who is _actually_ to blame: you," Sirius and James declared.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her temples. "You boys are going to kill me before my Hogwarts years are over," she mumbled.

Grinning Sirius stood to leave. "That's the plan, Delacour."

"Prat," the witch snapped.

"Twit," Sirius quipped.

* * *

Taliesin always knew they would come for him. Though, that did not mean he would make it easy for them. For the first year evading the group of wizards hunting him was relatively easy. Their plans were simple and direct. Their decisions once made were final. For the first year, Taliesin was amused, dancing away from them, standing just within their grasp, mocking them and then disappearing.

By the time the second year rolled around, Taliesin was tired. It would be so simple to let himself fall into their greedy hands. Many times during that year, Taliesin considered staying put and waiting for them to come. Whenever he did think that though, he recalled his visions of the curly haired witch and departed once again. She was so young. He would not leave her to her fate. Not yet.

And so, for the rest of that second year, Taliesin avoided capture still. And for the two years after, as well. Now, after four years on the run, Taliesin sat by a camp fire, an impressive bear skin wrapped around his shoulders and his face tired and resigned. These four years on the run had taken their toll on him: his face once young and radiant was now wrinkled and used; his hair, once fair and wavy, was now grey and stringy; his body, once tall and muscular, was now hunched and scrawny. He was but a shell of the man he used to be.

Suddenly, his eyes turned black, reflecting the flickering flames, and his whole body tensed. He breathed heavily as his gaze cleared and his shoulders drooped. His time had come to an end. They were here and he could not escape them. It seemed they were not as idiotic as he had believed them and after years of playing cats and mouse they had finally found his weakness. How to outsmart him: they remained undecided.

In fact, they made no decisions at _all._ They wandered randomly and they separated, closing their eyes and letting themselves be guided by their Magic. No matter how great a Seer he was, even he could not keep up with the immediate futures of ten undecided men.

Taliesin had never been talented in any other forms of Magic other than divination. He was practically a squib despite being the strongest Seer since Merlin and Morgan Le Fey. So he knew, that once they found him, he would not succeed in escaping them. If he ran, they would catch up to him. He was out of options.

He sighed when, finally, the black robed wizards popped up around him and forced him violently to the ground. He may be caught and he may not be able to fight in the same way they could but there was no way in hell that he was going to give the so called Dark Lord what he wanted.

His hands were tied behind his back and then the landscape changed, instead of trees and mountains, he watched as he was pushed towards a magnificent manor. _Perhaps I will be allowed to enjoy luxuries before dying_ , Taliesin thought with a chuckle. _Or perhaps not,_ he realized as he was dragged down into the dungeons. However, as soon as he was shoved inside a cell, Taliesin found himself quite pleased with his accommodations.

"Yes, not bad at all," he commented to himself as he settled himself onto the cot in the corner. Having spent four years in the wild, a cot, no matter how terrible it was, was still a bed, something he had not had for a long time. He realized he was going to enjoy his final moments in life before the torture and ultimate death.

It was hours later that someone finally entered. "My old friend!" Taliesin declared, a large, pleased grin on his face.

"Taliesin," Abraxas greeted with a solemn nod.

"Am I no longer deserving of a handshake?" The old looking wizard questioned.

"I'm afraid you lost that form of respect when you ran four years ago."

"Ran?" Taliesin laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't have much of a choice, did I?"

"You could have stayed and given the Dark Lord the information he sought," Abraxas argued.

"I've never been the kind to sit around and wait when other options are available," Taliesin reminded his captor.

"You did today."

"Ahh, but I had no other options," the grey wizard informed. "All possible futures led to my capture and death. I am not so foolish as to think I can escape the inescapable."

The Malfoy patriarch stared at his friend. "You've grown old."

"That tends to happen in four years."

Malfoy shook his head. "You've been alive for at least a couple centuries. Why have four years changed you so?" He was curious.

"Fate wanted me alive for this moment. Soon, I will die, be it at your master's hand or by Time's hand, the outcome is all the same."

"You've simply accepted your death?" Abraxas inquired, shocked.

"All men must die," Taliesin stated, grave words belittled by a careless shrug.

"Not all men," Abraxas spat, glancing behind himself as if checking that no one was listening in.

Taliesin chuckled darkly, a slightly unhinged look taking over his green eyes.

"Foolish words Abraxas. I always took you for a smart boy. I See now that I was wrong."


	22. Chapter 22: Taliesin

**A/N:** **Hello! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I reread it so many times my head hurts but still I'm willing to bet it isn't enough and there will still be a few typos or something to be found! Don't hesitate to point them out! And constructive criticism is always appreciated! I received some really lovely reviews for the last chapter! And enthusiastic new readers which is lovely!** NovemBerries **for example was a very nice one to read! Thank you so much!**

 **Also, I had a lot of comments on my slow update... I am sorry about that, though I suppose I always am... But, my excuse this time is: I was hospitalized and just had surgery so... Hehe, I think the next few chapters will come quickly-ish though. Have you noticed that about me? Continuous updates for a few weeks, then a slow moment and then back around. It's a cycle see. When the inspiration hits. I hope it doesn't anger you too much.**

 **Again, thank you for the reviews and follows! Enjoy the chapter and tell me what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: Nope.**

Voldemort was standing over the fireplace, rubbing his fingers together and his gaze lost in the green flames. The sound of the door opening broke him out of his trance and he straightened as he turned to face the intruders. He observed the men standing at attention, hands behind their backs and heads bowed just enough to be submissive but not enough to be staring at the floor. Tom's eyes twinkled at the sight.

"Gentlemen," he spoke softly. "I had almost given up hope."

The designated leader of the group took a step forward, appearing to be wishing to be anywhere but where he was. "My Lord," he bowed. "We beg your forgiveness. He outsmarted us at every turn. As a Seer he was aware of our plans as soon as we formulated them, even before."

Voldemort chuckled. "You think I do not know? I knew as soon as I sent you out that this would not be an easy mission. However, four years is far more than necessary."

Tom Riddle stepped forward and pulled out his wand, caressing it with a delicate hand. "I sent you out with a deadline of two years. Obviously, the extra manpower I allowed you made you cocky: you miscalculated, you got confused and you had no strategy. What would have taken me barely a year to achieve, took you four... I confess myself, disappointed."

A second man shuffled forward, head bowed. "My Lord, please, we- we apologize. We failed you," he admitted, hoping that admitting their errors was the best way of escaping the ultimate punishment.

"Indeed, you have," the Dark Lord murmured, his eyes drifting over the ten cowering men. "I am a merciful Lord, however, and so, only four of you shall pay the price of your mistakes. One for every year you failed me."

The men trembled, glancing at one another nervously from the corners of their eyes. "You four," he declared, pointing to the four men standing at the far back. "I have no need for cowards."

With no hesitation, the six other men turned on their comrades and quickly tied them down with a few spoken spells. The relief coming from the men was palpable, as was the terror. Answering mental summons, five guards entered and dragged the begging and sobbing men from the living room. Tom sneered at the sight. _It seems they were well chosen_ , Voldemort thought.

"Do not think that just because you were not with that lot that you are forgiven. You will have to redeem yourselves."

"Of course, My Lord."

"Anything to please you, My Lord."

"I will deal with you all later. I have an important guest to welcome."

With those words, Tom Riddle left the living room, completely unaffected by the yells and screams echoing through the halls, coming from the four men that had just been dragged away. Their suffering was just starting and their death inevitable. The only question that remained in Tom's mind was how long they could last before losing their lives.

* * *

"Taliesin."

"Tom," Taliesin greeted politely.

"It has been a while, old friend," Voldemort commented.

Taliesin scoffed. "We were never friends, boy," he spat.

"You dare?" Tom demanded, outraged by the nerve the man was displaying by calling him, the powerful Dark Lord, a _boy._ "I am no boy, Taliesin! I am the Dark Lord!"

Taliesin laughed. "Did I hurt your feelings, Tom? Are you not feeling fearsome enough? Not powerful enough?" Silence. "Are you going to punish me, Tom? Are you going to throw a temper tantrum like a grumpy. Little. _Boy?"_ He enunciated purposefully.

Tom stood stiffly by the door. "You may mock me now Taliesin, but once I am done with you, you will fear me, my name."

"Fear Voldemort?" Taliesin chuckled. "'Flying from death?' Not likely. I've seen the future, Tom," here, Taliesin paused and shook his head. "Neigh, I've seen the _futures._ All of them. And none of them frighten me. Except one: and that is not the one where I die."

"What?" Tom hissed, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment. _Was this weak man dressed in animal skins actually saying that he did not fear his own death?_ "All men fear their death."

Taliesin smirked. "Not when they have the Sight," he disagreed.

"You are a foolish man, Taliesin. Death is the only thing worth fearing."

"You're wrong there, Tom. Death is to be seen as the next great adventure."

"You repeat the ridiculous words spoken by a ridiculous man. Dumbledore is mad. He knows nothing."

"Again, you are mistaken," Taliesin shook his head sadly. "Those who fear death are destined to live in fear for the rest of their lives, for death is the only thing in the world that is inescapable."

"Inescapable, you say? Well then, it seems you are the one who is wrong and not I. For I have succeeded in escaping death. I am immortal."

The old man sighed. "You are not immortal, Tom. You are cursed. Cursed to exist in fear of the inevitable, always wondering when your moment will be your last."

"Ah," Tom said, walking so that his face was inches from Taliesin's. "But I no longer live in fear. Nor do I wonder. My Horcruxes keep me safe."

"Do they really? If that is the case, why have I met no other immortal human with Horcruxes? As far as I am aware all those who have tried to flee death are dead."

"They were foolish. They didn't make enough. I have ensured that even if one Horcrux were destroyed, others would keep me alive."

A knowing glint entered Taliesin's eyes as he recalled some of his visions. "All that is assuming no one knows you have more than one Horcrux. All that is assuming no one knows what a true madman you are. Assuming no one knows _exactly_ how many Horcruxes you have."

"How could anyone ever know? I have told no one," the Dark Lord scoffed.

"What makes you think _you'd_ have to tell anyone for them to find out?" He questioned.

Tom paused. "You?" He snarled. "Who have you told?"

"No one," Taliesin shrugged. "I didn't have to. They already knew."

"You _lie!"_ Riddle spat, his eyes turning red and spittle flying from his lips.

"Why would I lie? What would I have to gain?" Taliesin looked Tom over with mocking amusement in his eyes. "I can only gain from telling you the truth and with my capture you've sealed your fate. Now, you will spend the remainder of your short life constantly looking over your shoulder, waiting for that one special person who will destroy you. And believe me Tom Marvolo Riddle, this person is the most special one you will ever meet."

"And you will tell me who it is, so that I can rightly fear them? As Morgan Le Fey feared Merlin, knowing he was her doom?"

"Oh no Tom. Do not fret," Taliesin reassured. "You won't suffer from the same fate as Morgan. The poor girl, she had to live for years looking upon Merlin, conversing with him, befriending him and loving him, all the while knowing that she could do nothing to prevent him from killing her, she couldn't run away from him, convince him, kill him. Nothing. She was doomed. As are you. However, my small act of mercy to you is that I won't make you suffer the same way. You won't know who your doom is until the time is right. And now is not that time."

"Unacceptable! You will tell me and I will dispose of this nuisance."

"Why in the world do you think I would do that? I quite enjoy Seeing you in this particular future."

"If you won't tell me, I'll force it out of you instead of giving you a quick and painless death," Voldemort threatened.

"Tom, I've Seen. I know. You never planned on giving me a painless death. But no matter what you do, you won't loosen my tongue," Taliesin shrugged, hoping to disguise his tense shoulders. _There was that one future_ , he thought.

He could not, unfourtunately, control the outcome of this discussion. He could only pray that Voldemort would speak the necessary words. Taliesin shut his eyes and breathed deeply. Praying. Hoping. These next few seconds would decide many things. Taliesin only found small comfort in the fact that this conversation wouldn't decide the outcome of the war to come. _Unless_ , he cut his thought short. _No, it wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen._

"You've Seen, have you?" Tom sneered. "Perhaps my best bet isn't torture then… But rather, Seeing for myself."

A slow, mocking smirk spread over Taliesin's lips as a victorious glint lit up Voldemort's face, not noticing the determined look in the Seer's eyes.

"Oh Tom," the man sighed. "Go right ahead. It would be my pleasure to have you as a guest inside my mind."

This caused Riddle a moment of thoughtful silence. "What?" He asked, his tone neutral and disguising his confusion. No one had ever invited him into their mind.

"I said: you are more than welcome inside my head," Taliesin reiterated, tapping a finger to his temple. "That is also a future I have Seen. One that I enjoy very much. I would just love to see it come to pass."

Tom frowned so Taliesin continued. "Even your great mind can't handle what my twisted mind contains."

Voldemort grinned. "I am strong Legilimens, I'm sure I could handle it," he stated, raising his wand.

"Of course, your power is unlike any other," Taliesin nodded, knowingly. "That I cannot deny. So, please," the ragged wizard encouraged. "Show me just how great it is. Slip into my mind. Brace yourself for millions of possible pasts, presents and futures. Let us see how your mind fares under the assault," he chuckled in dark pleasure.

"Don't kid yourself, Tom. No mind is strong enough to survive that. Mine does because of years of training, because I have Seen since birth. Yours, however, well it would quite literally implode, at the most. At the least, you would simply fall into immediate insanity."

"Your tricks to keep me out won't work, Seer," Tom hissed.

The Seer pursed his lips and nodded. "Indeed. I might be tricking you to stay out of my mind. But think carefully Tom, if I am not tricking you and what I say is true: are you willing to risk your mind? Your most valuable asset is your mind, Tom, remember that. If you lose your mind, you lose everything."

The Dark Lord, simply glared at the man. Admittedly, he could not argue Taliesin's words. All witches and wizards knew that a true Seer's mind - like Merlin's or Taliesin's - was so much more complex than the average Magic-user's one. A Seer's mind was dangerously developed in a way any other mind could not handle.

"Perhaps you speak the truth in all regards. That does not mean I will not try to pry the information from your unwilling lips," Tom smirked cruelly and lifted his wand.

The man cloaked in black stepped forward, leaning down to be level with the sitting old man and tenderly traced the tip of his wand down the man's wrinkled face.

"Now," he paused, dragging his gaze over Taliesin's body. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

Hermione woke up with a gasp, sitting upright in her bed and letting her covers fall to her waist. The young witch looked around, her gaze unfocused as she tried to catch her breath. Trembling, she turned and pulled her bare feet out of the bed and onto the cold stone floor. Taking care to be silent so as to not awaken her roommates, she stood, wrapped a cloak over her pajama clad figure and left the comfort of her dorm room.

Rubbing her forearm in an automatic gesture to ease a distant pain from long ago, Hermione decided to forgo the glamour charm and simply readjusted her arm cover to conceal the gruesome scar. Too occupied with her thoughts she forgot to slip on a pair of shoes or even socks, and left the Ravenclaw tower barefoot. Her wand was also forgotten as her mind was solely focused on reaching her intended destination. Hermione traveled the corridors like a ghost, her eyes glazed, her steps regular and sure.

All noises were lost in the background, so it was no surprise when she completely ignored the group of four boys around the corner. Two of the boys had called out her name in a whisper, Peter raising a hand to wave her over and Sirius looking around as lookout for potential tattlers. The boys quickly realized that the girl had not seen them and briefly wondered if she was sleepwalking.

"If she is, we can't just let her stroll around the castle on her own! What if she went and wandered outside?!" James whisper yelled to his friends.

"I'd say good riddance," Sirius shrugged.

"Shut up," Remus snapped. It was far too late in the night – and too close to the full moon - for him to keep up a semblance of politeness.

Sirius raised his arms in a show of surrender and grudgingly followed his best mates. It seemed their prank setting up would just have to wait for later that night, or another day. They trailed behind her from a distance, not wanting to get too close but gradually getting close enough to hear when she suddenly burst into tears. Still unsure, they kept away, trailing her in silence as she walked and sniffed through the halls of Hogwarts.

They frowned when she stopped by the Headmaster's office. They were surprised when her choked voice uttered the password to make the Gargoyle jump aside. They were completely gobsmaked when the stairs turned and Dumbledore himself appeared, letting the stairs bring him down to his young student. They were not, however, shocked by the fact that he seemed unsurprised by her arrival nor by his choice of bright night clothing.

"Miss Delacour," Albus greeted softly.

"Please, Sir," she started. "I need Aberforth. Or Guillaume."

Dumbledore nodded in sympathy and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come with me, Hermione. Everything will be fine. It's all over. Nothing like that will ever happen to you again," he attempted to reassure her, knowing she was prone to terrible nightmares.

"Please," was all she replied.

Then the duo disappeared inside the office. The quatuor stayed for a while longer, wondering about what they had seen. As unexpected as it had been, none of them were incredibly surprised by what they had seen and overheard. James had told them about everything he had overheard that first summer. Obviously, whatever had been bothering her back then was still a problem today.

"Should you boys be out of bed at this hour?" An amused voice questioned from behind them.

Jumping and gasping the Marauders turned around, ready to explain their presence in the corridor. "Mr. Delacour!" James exclaimed.

"James, I've told you before to call me Guillaume. Sirius, Remus," the French man nodded to the boys, hesitating when his gaze landed on the last one. "I'm afraid I don't recall your name?"

"Peter," the mousey boy squeaked.

Something flickered in the older man's eyes but it was gone before it could settle. "Pleasure."

"We were just-" Sirius started.

"Don't bother," the blonde wizard raised a hand. "My sister's told me all about you. I don't want to hear excuses, just get to bed, the lot of you. Your pranking will have to wait for another day," he grinned.

"See you around," James said, hurrying away with his friends, all of them glad to have been let off.

Shaking his head Guillaume continued on his way and entered the Headmaster's bureau. Hermione was there, curled up in an armchair and holding a steaming mug of tea as she sat facing both Dumbledore men. Excited, Hermione hastily placed her cup on the desk and threw herself in the awaiting arms of her brother. With a calculated wave of his wand, Guillaume transformed the armchair into a couch and sat down with his sister wrapped around him. Finally pulling herself together, Hermione sat up straight and eyed the men in the room.

"I asked for either Aberforth _or_ Guillaume," she stated. "You didn't need to bother both."

"It was our request. If you ever needed us, we would both come."

Hermione huffed. "I'm not made of glass."

"No, but you were pleased to see us both," Aberforth pointed out.

"Perhaps," the witch relented, taking back her mug from it's place on the table.

"So, Albus claimed you had a nightmare?" Aberforth started, not one for beating around the bush.

"Yes... but not exactly."

"How was it 'not exactly' a nightmare?" Guillaume inquired.

"The contents were... worthy of a nightmare... but it wasn't one of my usual ones. Usually, I dream of my past but this time was different."

"How so?" Albus probed.

"It had a different quality to it. I can't explain it..." She trailed off, trying to think of the perfect way to describe what she had just experienced.

"Was it a vision?" Guillaume questioned.

Hermione opened her mouth to refute his question, trying to ignore the brief feeling of guilt she felt at the reminder that her brother was still unaware of who and what she really was. The second it took her to open her mouth however, was long enough for a thought to enter her mind. Hermione paused and pressed her lips together. She frowned and went to speak before stopping once again, no sound leaving her lips as she mulled over a thought.

"Yeeess," she drew out slowly, causing both Dumbledore's to raise their eyebrows. "Of a sort."

"What do you mean?" Aberforth asked, shifting forward in his seat.

"It wasn't of the future. But of the present."

"Is that possible?" Guillaume checked, glancing at the older men. When it came to things such as Seeing, he was completely out of his depth and he wasn't even going to pretend he knew what was going on.

"With Hermione, I've come to the realization that many things deemed impossible are possible. So yes, it could be," Albus stated, observing Hermione closely. "Why do you suspect this was a vision of the present and not the future?"

Hermione sent him a look to state the obvious. She was no Seer. Aloud, she replied. "I- it's a feeling?" She offered, wincing at her own weak response but finding no other way of describing it.

"A feeling." Aberforth deadpanned.

The brunette flushed in embarrassment but held her ground and nodded. "Perhaps, if you described this dream to us we could understand it better?" Albus spoke, eyeing his brother reproachfully.

 _A man was screaming in a dark cell. Hermione stood in the corner trying to keep her eyes shut and to block out the noise. She didn't want to see this. Why was she here? Suddenly, silence fell and hesitantly Hermione raised her head and opened her eyes. The man was still on the stone floor and panting heavily. Her eyes now open, she could not find it within her power to tear her gaze away. And so, she watched as the Dark Lord stood proud and tall and furious above the tortured old man._

 _"You should have just told me what I wanted to know, Taliesin," Voldemort murmured, regretfully. "Things would have been much more pleasant for the both of us."_

 _The man chuckled, blood spurting from his mouth. "Don't lie to me, Tom. I hate it when people think they can fool me. I told you before, you never planned to let me die a sane man."_

 _Smiling, Voldemort pointed his wand and slowly curled it upwards in a move so graceful it could have been confused for dance. The scream that was ripped from Taliesin's lips however, revealed the beautiful movement's dark and cruel nature. Hermione was transfixed as, almost languidly, the skin on the man's chest peeled off, exposing the raw flesh and muscle underneath. The witch winced. Finally, once both pectorals were free of skin Voldemort let his victim breathe. Hermione was horrified. She had just stood there and watched a man be skinned alive. She knew she couldn't have stopped it but still... She had_ watched, _instead of turning away. Breathing in to calm herself Hermione settled her gaze on Taliesin's body. Her eyes trailed over the flesh, the flowing blood and the small pieces of shredded skin still clinging to his figure. Then her gaze landed on his face and their eyes met._

 _Hermione jumped back in surprise, plastering herself on the stone wall and accidentally smudging the blood that_ _adorned the wall. Still the man stared straight at her, his face calming as if his pain evaporated at the sight of her. He smiled. A part of Hermione could hear the Dark Lord start to rage, angered and insulted by the smile that graced Taliesin's face. Hermione couldn't resist the glancing at the young looking wizard as he left the cell. She was quite surprised by his red eyes. She had met him not that long ago but his eyes had been a beautiful blue, what had happened to make them change? She wondered. Hermione also couldn't help but notice his perfect nose. How could he go from having a perfect nose to no nose at all? Oh, how she wished she could punch him and break that nose, he deserved at least that imperfection._ _The door shut, cutting off her distracted musings and forcing her attention back to the suffering man on the floor._

 _"Miss Granger," the man whispered._

 _"How do you know who I am?"_

 _"I know everyone," he informed her. Though what he said suggested superiority, his tone was neutral but brook no argument. Hermione realized that he was not bragging, simply stating something true._

 _"How?"_

 _"I am a Seer, of the truest kind. There is none other like me in this time period. I know the pasts, the presents and the futures."_

 _"I have little faith in Divination," Hermione muttered._

 _"Divination is a_ _game, one needs little inborn talent, many tools and nifty tricks in order to Divine. I need nothing, just my mind. I See."_

 _"You See? As in you make prophecies?" Hermione questioned._

 _"No. I See too much and am unable to make prophecies. Though I have Seen all prophecies. They are but one possible path."_

 _"Why am I here?"_

 _"I summoned you, using my last bit of magical strength," he told her, taking a shuddering breath._

 _"Why would you waste your strength for that when you could have used it to escape?"_

 _"Ah, I am not powerful enough to do such a thing."_

 _"Surely you needed power to make me come here?"_

 _"Not really. You are only here in spirit. Your body remains where it was."_

 _Hermione took a look down at her body and sure enough she was a slight bit translucent. "Huh. So why did you summon me of all people?"_

 _"To warn you Miss Granger," he paused to catch his breath. "You need to know: Voldemort is aware of your existence."_

 _"I know that already. I met him a while back," Hermione waved him away._

 _"Yes but he still does not know about your situation, though you do interest him, what I mean to say is... He is aware someone knows about his Horcruxes."_

 _Hermione eyed the man. "Does he know it is me?"_

 _"Not yet. And he won't for a while still. If you are careful."_

 _"I can be careful," Hermione assured._

 _"Once he knows who you are, you lose the element of surprise."_

 _"He won't. I'm sure you know that there are ways to conceal one's identity."_

 _"And I'm sure_ you _know that there are other ways to identify someone," he replied._ _Hermione was about to respond and ask what he meant when he gasped and raised a weak hand to his chest. "My time is soon coming to an end. Good luck Miss Granger. I pray that you succeed in your endeavours."_

 _"Thank you."_

"His name was Taliesin. At least that's what Voldemort called him," Hermione finished, observing the three men for a reaction.

Guillaume looked clueless, but Hermione wasn't surprised. He was here more for comforting purposes than for anything else. The other two, the brothers, they were here to share their knowledge.

"Taliesin? So his end has finally arrived," Albus murmured, sadly.

"You know him?" Guillaume inquired.

"He was the strongest Seer since Merlin and Morgan," Aberforth explained.

"You say he summoned you to warn you about Voldemort's threat on your person?" Albus asked.

Hermione regretfully glanced at her brother before explaining as honestly as possible, in a way that would be understood by all present in their own capacity: for the Dumbledore's, as the truth, for her brother, as the wary words of a Seer.

"He didn't go into detail. He just told me that Voldemort was aware that someone knew about his soul. He said that Voldemort didn't know anything about **_my_** situation per say. But apparently he is interested in both: a person in my situation, which provides me with knowledge I have and just me. Though he does not yet realize they are one and the same."

"Are you telling me you are in double the danger we thought?" Guillaume demanded, horrified.

"It seems that way," Hermione agreed, sheepishly.

" _Putain,_ I'm never letting you out of the house anymore. Who knows what trouble you get into when you go out!"

"I will not be cloistered!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up in outrage despite knowing he didn't truly mean what he was saying.

"Why not? Everytime I see you it seems to me you're in more danger than the last!"

"Locking me up and throwing away the key isn't the solution!"

There was a moment of silence, filled only with the tired sigh of the blond wizard. "I know, Hermione. I just - I can't lose you."

"You won't. Not anytime soon," Hermione reassured, moving back to her brother's side.

The four of them continued to discuss this turn of events until they decided it was time to get some sleep. They parted ways, Guillaume getting permission from Albus to accompany his sister to her dorm before he had to leave the premises.

"I'm tired Guillaume," Hermione whispered as they stood outside the Ravenclaw tower.

Smiling affectionately at his younger adopted sibling, Guillaume pulled her in for a tight hug. "It's been a long night."

"Thank you. For being here," she spoke, her voice muffled by the fact that her face was being squished to his chest.

"Go to bed, _ma puce_ , sleep."

Nodding Hermione took a step back, kissed Guillaume on the cheek and entered the Ravenclaw common room, barely giving a thought to the riddle given to her.

 **A/N: So I took a few liberties with the legend of Merlin and Morgan Le Fey, so I apologize to any King Arthur legend connoisseurs reading this story. Hope you enjoyed the chapter none the less! Please tell me what you think!**

 **I'll try and post the next chapter before Christmas (24th) but I give no** **guarantees... I am exhausted from my operation. Bare with me please!**


	23. Chapter 23: Wandless Magic

**A/N: Okay, so I failed on my intended deadline. I was all set to update quickly but then I spent a lot more time sleeping than planned (Thank you so much for the well-wishes! I feel much better now, if still a little tired, though I've been told that's normal), then it was Christmas and the New Year and then I was packing to go back to the Netherlands and lectures were starting... Lost track of time. And when I finally got around to** **writing, my internet shut down and everything I wrote was lost. My anger was immense.**

 **Despite that, I hope this chapter meets your expectations. Or rather Exceeds Expectations. Please do tell me if that was the case... Do I get an EE or this one, or just an Acceptable?**

 **Also, I thank everyone who followed, favourite or reviewed the last chapters! Your reviews are always so full of nice and encouraging words! You're the reason why I'm here! But don't hesitate for any constructive criticism, I always appreciate them. And any plot points you might like, which even if I don't use are always fun to read.**

 **Disclaimer: I want to own a Ferrari and the Burj Al Arab. Sadly I own neither. Same thing with this right here. Except plot.**

"Concentrate, Hermione!" Aberforth growled in annoyance.

They had finished a new batch of Wolfsbane just an hour ago and had moved on to the usual duelling practice that often followed.

"I am concentrating, Abe but I can't use it. It's not my magic, it's foreign. I don't know how to wield it," Hermione defended herself as sweat gathered on her brow.

"Well, you're going to have to figure out how to control it one day if you ever want to be able to participate in the Hogwarts' Duelling Club," he reminded her.

"You think I don't know that? You take a twisted pleasure reminding me of my failure everytime we meet up for practice," the witch grumbled.

Instead of responding, Aberforth opted to send a particularly nasty hex in her direction, Hermione just barely ducking out of the way in time. "Wouldn't it be easier for me to try first with my wand? We've been at this for months, over a year and I've still not managed to succeed in anything remotely powerful wandlessly."

"Hermione, with the amount of Magic contained inside that little body of yours, you don't need a bloody wand to cast a spell," he commented.

"Yes, well, I may have this Magic but as far as we can tell, I can't use it so there really is no point in this."

"Just because you don't know how to use it, doesn't mean you can't. You _know_ this, Hermione," Aberforth stressed. "We can't risk you using it unintentionally."

They lapsed back into silence, only the sounds of the old wizard's spells crashing into the wall behind Hermione disturbing the peace. Breathlessly, Hermione raised her hand to signal the need for a break as she moved towards the couch that had appeared in the room a few seconds ago.

"This is useless... It's been over a year and still I haven't been able to so much as hex you without my wand," Hermione said, frustrated at having failed so drastically at manipulating the Magical Cores inside her.

"You have failed but these courses are not useless. Far from it. Your ducking and rolling abilities are now _hors pair_ ," Aberforth congratulated her. "However, I believe the approach is what causes the problem here."

"The approach? What other way could we go about it?" Hermione inquired with a frown.

"I can think of a way... But you won't like it," Aberforth admitted, glancing at the young girl from the corner of his eye as he joined her on the couch.

"Really? Please, do tell," Hermione asked, her voice dry and wary.

The younger Dumbledore brother shook his head. "No, we'll meet in the Forbidden Forest tonight and there we'll work on this new method."

"Tonight? I have class tomorrow," Hermione informed him.

"Bloody Hell, fine Friday night then," he accepted, standing and stretching his back.

Sighing Hermione agreed. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice in the matter."

"Correct, you do not. And don't bother telling Albus, I'll keep him posted."

Nodding Hermione followed him to the door of the Room of Requirement. "See you Friday then."

"Goodbye Hermione."

Said witch waited a certain amount of time before leaving the Room and heading towards the Ravenclaw Tower. She had only just turned the corner, leaving the corridor that lead to the Room of Requirement when Adrian called her name from a ways down.

"Hermione! Wait up a second!" He exclaimed, gathering his fallen things and rushing forward.

As she stood waiting for him, a heavy arm wrapped itself over her shoulder. She turned to see who it was and sighed when she noticed James at her side, the rest of the Marauders standing close by. James was leaning towards her, his head tilted as he watched the Ravenclaw boy struggle down the empty hallway.

"Clumsy bugger, ain't he?" He observed when Adrian dropped one of his books and tripped on his scarf for a third time.

Hermione was about to defend her friend but shut her mouth when Adrian stepped on the hem of his cloak as he stood back up, causing him to lurch forward, all his belongings flying through the air. Not wanting him to suffer from too much teasing from the Marauders watching the display, Hermione waved her wand, freezing the books mid-air and levitated them to her side in a neat pile. Gratefully, Adrian continued forward easily, no longer at risk of breaking a limb.

"Thanks for that, Hermione," he said, brushing his curls out of his eyes. "Are you alright?" He asked after a pause during which he took the time to look his friend over.

"Of course I am, why do you ask?" She wondered.

"You look flushed. You cheeks are pink, your hair is a mess and your robes are wrinkled," he pointed out.

"That's how one looks after snogging, genius," Sirius mocked, eyeing Hermione himself.

"I have not-" Hermione started to argue but was interrupted by Adrian as his face started to turn red.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he excused himself, realizing he had embarrassed his friend. "I shouldn't have asked. What you do on your own time is your business. Only, I didn't know anyone was interested in being involved with you," Adrian's eyes widened as he realized his words could be seen as insulting. "Not that no one is interested in you! Not at all! I've heard a lot of guys saying they find you attractive!" Hermione stood calmly, letting her friend fumble over his words as the Marauders watched the scene with growing amusement. "Not that I talk about you. No, I don't join in. I don't find you attractive! Well I mean, of course, you're attractive, just not to me. No. What I mean to say is I can understand if others see you in that way but... I... don't," he trailed off, looking desperate, hoping to not have vexed his friend.

James whistled while passing more of his weight on Hermione's shoulders. "Wow. You, Adrian, truly know how to sweet talk a lady."

"Don't be mean," Hermione said, shrugging James' arm off her shoulders, causing him to stumble at the loss of physical support.

"So who was the unlucky bloke?" Sirius questioned, replacing Hermione as James' brace.

"No one! I was not wasting my time snogging someone! I was training," Hermione snapped.

"Training for what?" Remus inquired, not having heard of this before.

" _Training in how to snog, no doubt,_ " Sirius muttered from the corner of his mouth, making Peter snicker.

Hermione sent the pair a scathing look before answering Remus politely. "Refining my duelling skills. It is my hope to be able to participate in the Duelling Club before I graduate."

"We could help you train!" James chipped in. "You'd be able to join in no time!"

Hermione knew that for once he was not bragging, he was genuine in his offer and he spoke nothing but the truth. The Marauders, bar Peter, were brilliant duellers and if she had been a lost cause herself, they would have been the perfect tutors. However, seeing as how her lack of proficiency was not the issue, she couldn't stop the panicked "NO!" that escaped her mouth.

James frowned but shrugged. "If I wasn't so confident in my talents, I'd be offended but I just can't be bothered. With you around, I'd live my life offended Hermione," he observed, his face quickly becoming carefree, as he refused to dwell on her harsh rejection.

"I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just not comfortable enough to practice with others yet. When I am, you'll be the first to know," Hermione apologized.

The tall boy ruffled his hair and grinned. "No worries, I'm getting used to it. You're making me impervious to insults."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should take that as a compliment or not. Surely she wasn't constantly insulting him was she? Perhaps she did criticize him and the Marauders more than necessary, but she couldn't help it, they simply rubbed her in the wrong direction. Not to mention the fact that she was always worried of revealing too much and was sometimes snappish or abrupt in her attempt to disguise her slip-ups. She would just have to try harder, she supposed.

"Shall we go eat?" She enquired, motioning down the hall.

All agreeing, Hermione linked her arm through Adrian's and followed the Marauders to the Great Hall. They separated without words to their designated tables. Hermione smiled at Pandora and Xenophilius, seated across from her. The pair were very close, and though Hermione wouldn't go as far as to say they were in love, they were obviously quite taken with the other. However, Hermione suspected that their relationship would develop no further until at least a few more years. The conversation between the students flowed easily as they debated the subject of an Erumpent's Exploding Fluid.

"You can't survive Exploding Fluid! Anything injected with it by the horn of an Erumpent explodes! It's a deadly fluid, everyone knows that," Adrian argued.

Xenophilius nodded sagely, agreeing with the younger boy. "He's got a point. It is a Class B Tradable Material for a reason," he pointed out, gesturing at the girls with his fork.

"Wilfred Elphick," Hermione declared knowing they would understand even if she didn't explain.

"Indeed, how do you explain him?" Pandora challenged with a calm smile.

"He might have survived but he didn't truly recover did he?" Xenophilius said.

"We're discussing survival, not recovery," Hermione reminded him.

Adrian was just about to throw in his opinion but paused when a loud commotion interrupted him. All of them moved their gaze over to the Gryffindor table just in time to see Lily wave her wand. A spoon of mashed potatoes flew onto James hair, Sirius got splashed in the face with whatever was in his cup and Peter had a slice of cake squished into his face.

"You're despicable James Potter! I will never agree to such a thing! You're nothing but an arrogant toe-rag!" And with those words the fiery red-head stormed out of the Hall, fuming.

Jumping up, Hermione hurried out after her friend and found her hiding in a small alcove not far from the Hall. Smiling Hermione moved to join her. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh Hermione! What are you doing here?" Lily questioned in genuine surprise.

"I wanted to see if you were alright, I mean, you seemed to be raging as you left the Hall," Hermione explained.

"You noticed?"

Hermione grimaced. "I think everyone did, you were quite loud. And the food throwing was entertaining. I'm surprised you didn't start an all out food fight with that honestly," Hermione murmured the last part, looking away thoughtfully at the idea of a full fledged food fight.

"How embarrassing!" Lily claimed, burying her face in her hands. "I didn't want everyone to see, I was just so overcome with anger that I guess I lost control for a moment."

"You sure have a temper," Hermione observed kindly, a teasing grin on her lips. "So... What did Potter say to get you so riled up?" Hermione inquired, leaning back against the wall.

"He asked me out to the Hogsmeade weekend!" Lily exclaimed, sounding absolutely horrified and disgusted by the idea.

"He did?" Hermione asked, her head snapping back in shock, having not expected that to be her answer.

"Exactly!" Lily yelled, thinking that Hermione's reaction was due to her feeling as disgusted by the prospect as Lily did.

"Why did that get you so offended though? Surely that means he's growing up and has stopped pranking you?"

"Far from it! In fact do you want to know why it outraged me so strongly?" Lily questioned, starting to pace in an bid to release some of her still boiling ire. "There I was, sitting happily with my friends when suddenly the Marauders are sitting by our side. My friends of course were pleased by the attention which just frustrated me. Am I the only one who sees how vile those boys are?"

"Oh no, others have noticed that about them as well, don't worry," Hermione reassured with a laugh.

"Anyway, I decided to ignore them. But then - but then I hear them talking loudly and what they were saying, well it just incensed me. They were insulting Sev and mocking him and..." Lily trailed off as her emotions grew stronger. "Still, I ignored them because I just wasn't in the mood to deal with them today but then-" Lily cut off, laughing almost in a deranged way and raking a hand through her hair. "Then he dared, _actually dared_ , to ask me out! In front of everyone! After having just humiliated my best friend! Can you believe him?!"

Hermione pursed her lips and scrunched up her nose. "I must admit that wasn't his most brilliant nor most thought out plan ever."

"He would have to be a brainless git to even think I would say yes!" Lily hollered, then paused seeming to calm down and giggled. "Actually, it makes perfect sense now."

The curly haired witch laughed along with the Muggleborn witch. The pair stayed together for a few more moments until Hermione noticed Lily's Gryffindor friends walking around. "It seems your friends are searching for you. I'm glad you've calmed down."

"Thank you for helping me Hermione," Lily spoke, gratefully pulling the girl into a brief hug before strolling over to her friends.

* * *

When Friday night finally came, Hermione was surprised to find Guillaume waiting for her in the Room of Requirement and not Aberforth. He was pacing the length of the room, muttering under his breath and his brow was scrunched in anger.

"Guillaume?! What are you doing here?" She rushed over to him and hugged him.

 _Was it her imagination or had he hugged her tighter than usual?_ She wondered, but brushed it aside when pulling back, he offered her a bright smile.

"Aberforth called me in as an 'assistant' of sorts for your lesson tonight."

"For my lesson? I wasn't aware you knew about them," she frowned.

"Of course I knew. I'm your legal guardian. I had to be informed in case something happened to you during one of your lessons."

"Oh..." Hermione sighed, feeling silly for not having realized before. "I'm surprised you agreed to it."

"How could I not? You need to know how to defend yourself in case Voldemort comes after you. Anyway, we have to get going."

"Get going? Where to? Shouldn't we wait for Aberforth?"

Guillaume smiled, and if his smile looked strained, Hermione didn't want to ask. "Aberforth had to get things ready, which is why I'm here, I'm to bring you to our destination safe and sound."

"Okay," Hermione accepted, reaching to take his hand in the hopes of defusing the tension that she could feel building.

That act only caused to make the situation worse when Guillaume tensed, surprising Hermione. He had never tensed at her touch before.

"What's going on Guillaume? What's wrong?" She demanded, alarm bells ringing in her mind.

Shaking his head, Guillaume grinned, a muscle twitching in his jaw while he relaxed his body and pulled her along behind him. Hermione was confused, while he now appeared and felt relaxed, the twitching in his jaw proved otherwise. _What could possibly have him so tightly wound_ , Hermione wondered. She tried to ignore the continuously rising tension and allowed him to lead her outside and to the border of the forest.

"We're going in there? I didn't think he was serious."

"Yes," Guillaume nodded. "Aberforth believes, that if you are in a more frightening environment, you will be able to control your Magic with more precision."

"Oh my," Hermione breathed.

"You will be perfectly safe, do not worry," Guillaume reassured, wrapping her into a tight hug.

 _No,_ Hermione observed dryly. _She hadn't imagined it, his hug is tense._ He could say what he wanted to her, but she could tell he did not like this idea at all. He was worried.

"I'll be fine, Guillaume. Don't be an overprotective brother," she teased.

"I'll guide you to the correct spot. It'll be protected by wards and enchantments so no wild beasts will be able to pass through and attack you."

"Very well," Hermione acquiesced, turning to enter the cover of the trees as the moon shone down brightly.

"Hermione," Guillaume croaked, freezing her on the spot. Slowly, she looked back at him, noticing the pained expression on his face. "I really don't like this idea but I'm required to take your wand."

Sighing, Hermione nodded. "I should have know, it's the one rule he's refused to change since the start," she admitted, pulling it out and handing it to her brother without preamble.

Smiling she rolled her shoulders. "Alright, I'm ready. Shall we go?"

Grimacing Guillaume, waved her forward, reminding her to stay close to him and to follow him closely. The duo walked rapidly through the forest, Hermione needing to pause to catch her breath a few times. A few times Hermione lost sight of her brother as he passed behind trees but easily managed to catch up with him. Hermione rested her hand against the rough bark of the tree on her left, watching Guillaume disappear behind an impressively large tree and sighed, knowing she needed to catch up with him again. However, when she went to hurry forward her leg was tugged backwards, causing her to lurch forward with a yelp and a groan when she crashed to the ground.

"Hermione?" Guillaume called, his voice sounding quite far away.

Rolling over, Hermione looked down at her ankle and cursed. "Oh Merlin." A thick root was curled tightly around her ankle, seeming to squeeze tighter everytime she struggled to free her foot. "I'm stuck!" She exclaimed loudly to inform Guillaume of her predicament.

Hermione tried to describe her location to her brother as she reached down to touch the root and attempted to pry it off by force. Realizing her attempts were fruitless Hermione shifted into a more comfortable position and leant against the tree. Figuring that she had nothing better to do, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the magic. She could feel it there, she always could but whenever she tried to reach it, hold it within her grasp it always seemed to slip through her fingers, curling away from her. It shied away from her, as if too timid to let itself be touched and Hermione just didn't understand the feeling. Magic couldn't feel, so there was no way it was _shy._ Still, she continued to focus on it, trying to gently coax it into her control and ignored the world around her. So lost in her concentration, Hermione missed the sound of a distant fight and the worrisome scurrying approaching her at a rapid pace. Even as she opened her eyes and raised her hand, aiming her fingers towards her restraint, Hermione was oblivious to the dark shadow moving towards her, close to the ground.

" _Relashio,_ " she breathed. "Godric," she sighed in despair when nothing happened.

Honestly, she could manage a simple levitation spell wandlessly and silently. How much more magic was required for a releasing spell? Surely not that much... A twig snapping behind her finally broke her final shreds of concentration. Hermione started as she twisted around, catching sight of the young Acromantula closing in on her. The witch glanced around frantically, searching for something to save her and noticed the large stone resting between two trees. Hermione squared her shoulders and moved her hand. She had never lifted such a large object wandlessly before but if there was ever going to be a time for her to succeed, it was now. Still, when she pulled at her magic, the strands of alien magic within her that had somehow, at one point, tangled with her own tugged away, leaving her magic bare and alone, as Merlin's and the Founder's magic went back to regroup with the main Cores. Hermione smiled as the rock floated shakily from the ground and using all her strength Hermione dropped it onto the small Acromantula. It squealed in pain and quickly raced away. Hermione felt a small stab of guilt as she watched the spider limp, one of it's legs dragging behind it at an odd angle, obviously broken. Turning her attention back towards her leg, Hermione studied the tree limb wrapped around her.

 _Wrong._ Something whispered in the back of her mind.

Well, yes she realized something was wrong. She was stuck in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and her brother was taking a terribly long time to find her. A small explosion echoed deeper within the trees, making Hermione start.

"Spread out!" A deep voice hollered, echoing off the trees in the darkness.

Hermione's eyes widened. That wasn't Aberforth's voice. Taking a deep, grounding breath Hermione entered her gaze on the rough root and rested her palm against it. Blocking everything else out she pulled at thee magic within her. She needed to be free or she would be nothing but a sitting duck. A sudden feeling filled her, almost drowning out the whisper in the back of her mind and she fixated on the need to be released.

" _Relashio,_ " she whispered again, this time feeling the magic flowing through her body.

The young witch watched with a large grin as the root slithered off her ankle and back into the earth, leaving a painful red rash on her skin. Her joy was short lived however, because soon a loud thud resonated, followed by a pained grunt. In a panic, Hermione started running around the trees, searching for her brother and fretting over what - or more exactly, who - had delayed him. The soft light of the moon filtered through a group of trees, indicating the presence of a clearing and Hermione was quick to direct her feet that way. Hermione staggered to a halt when she entered the small field and was greeted by the sight of her brother on his knees, a wand digging into his neck and seven cloaked figures, distributed evenly around the area.

 _Wrong._ The whisper was back. It tickled her mind, begging for attention but Hermione brushed it aside. She needed to figure out how in the world she could battle seven enemies, protect her brother and escape. All that without a wand. Even with a wand Hermione doubted her abilities of getting out of this alive so without she realized she was at an extreme disadvantage. _Wrong._ Hermione shivered. Quickly, this feeling of _wrongness_ was overwhelming her to the point that she felt no fear nor any worry. She only felt confusion, frustration and annoyance at not being able to understand this feeling. Where was it coming from? What exactly was wrong?

As she attempted to interpret the feeling, she also tried to discern the faces hidden in the darkness under the hooded bodies and the sense of wrongness increased tenfold. _Wrong. This is wrong._ The tickling thought in the back of her mind insisted, demanding her attention. She turned back towards her brother and the wizard holding him prisoner and suddenly the realization of just what was wrong hit her like a tidal wave, causing the bubbling magic within her to explode outwards. Rays of bright light slammed into the seven men, sending them flying through the air and Hermione felt no surprise when all of them except one disappeared. Moving towards her brother she waved her hand, levitating the cloaked man just before he hit the ground.

"You absolute fool, Guillaume!" Hermione exclaimed, kneeling by his side.

The other man finally stood, brushing off his cloak and facing the siblings. "When did you figure it out?" He inquired, removing his hood.

Hermione glanced at him with a small amount of disdain. "I didn't. Not really."

"What do you mean?" Guillaume questioned, smiling at his sister.

"Something inside me knew as soon as the Acromantula showed up. But I only understood what it was telling me when the magic erupted."

"Fascinating. The results were far better than I anticipated," Aberforth commented.

"Anticipated? You're lucky you're not dead!" Hermione shouted.

"Come now, the force that hit me was nothing powerful enough to kill any of us."

"Only because it somehow understood that everything was a lie. I don't know how it did but I know it was the magic telling me that it was all wrong. Fake. The Cores somehow knew this was all a set up. And you're lucky they did because as soon as the magic broke out I had no control over it! If it had considered you a true threat, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

"Magical Cores are quite like a sixth or seventh sense, but they usually never act out on their own. As we just experienced, yours can. Obviously, that is a side effect of the five extra Cores you have."

"So does that mean I can join the Duelling Club then? If it's only going to act out in special situations, it should be safe?"

"I'm afraid not, right now, those Cores have a mind of their own and could burst out of you at any moment: perhaps when you feel angry or sad or excited. It's too much of a risk," Aberforth spoke, his tone apologetic as the trio headed back towards the castle. "But this is the first time you've used it, which is quite promising. We're finally making progress."

"Did it feel any different to your usual magic?" Guillaume asked, curious having only learnt recently about her extra Cores.

Hermione reflected before answering. "Yes. In the clearing just before it flared, I could feel it in my whole body gathering and preparing to shatter any and all restraints I might have on it. The feeling as it rushed out was - indescribable, so relieving, satisfying. I've never felt that way before, so free, as if I had no limitations."

"We must discuss this in more detail tomorrow," Aberforth stated as they reached the doors of Hogwarts.

Hermione paused as she went to enter the school. "There's one more thing," she murmured, resting her hand on the door. "When I was stuck and the Acromantula attacked, I used my magic to levitate a bolder," she shook her head as she tried to explain. "As I was trying to reach enough of my magic to levitate such a large object, I... I felt my magic and the Cores. Together. Mixed. No, not mixed. It was more like they were tangled and as soon as I pulled on my magic, the Cores tugged away, as if they didn't want to be used."

"Tangled?" Guillaume repeated, eyeing Hermione with raised eyebrows as Aberforth observed her closely.

Hermione stared back at the Dumbledore man as he obviously pondered her words. "That is... interesting. _Very_ interesting," he mumbled into his beard. "I don't know what that could mean, Cores 'tangling' is an odd concept. However, might I recommend meditation?"

"Meditation?" Hermione hoped she had heard incorrectly. "I hardly have time to meditate."

"Ten minutes, at least every second day. If you do it just before you got to sleep it should hardly disturb your daily rhythm."

"And why, pray tell, should I meditate?"

"To study the Cores, of course. Today, when you tried to use it willingly, that's the closest you've ever come to ever accessing it _willingly_." He stressed again, to be sure she understood the difference between that moment and the one in the field. "And if you study the Cores closely, you'll be able to observe their evolution. Do they stay as they are? Do the Cores, yours and theirs, grow even more tangled? Do they one day perhaps even mix?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she understood what he was suggesting. "You mean... You think that is possible?"

"If you had asked me that a few years ago, when I first met you here, I would have replied with an outright 'no'. Now, however, I have come to accept the impossible, something which I have already told you," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he turned away and looked at the trees they had just left. "Hermione, with what you've discovered today, I do believe that one day the six Cores inside you will become _one."_

 **A/N: So yep! Hope there are not too many mistakes! Please tell me what you think! Thank you for reading.**


	24. Chapter 24: Merlin's Book

**A/N: So the Christmas holidays of fourth year! Lots of brother-sister interaction. Thank you for the lovely reviews! And for those who pointed out a few** **inconsistencies, which I did go back and fix. There was a rather big one with Pandora... Some of you might not have noticed, but I had called her Pandora Lovegood... Big mistake. So sorry, I'm not much of a fan of incest and that was a silly mistake to make. Hehe, anyway, I fixed it up and she is now: Pandora Astor (made up because I have no idea what her maiden name was).**

 **Happy reading! And please share what you thought!**

Hermione held out her hand and smiled, her head tilted as she looked at the tall blond man behind her. "Are you coming?" She asked with a teasing smile.

Guillaume glanced at her hand, his mouth slightly agape. "I... You really want me to?"

"You're my brother. I've been keeping this from you for too long," she admitted. "And Aberforth believes you'll be able to 'protect' me better if you know the real truth about me. _Though I don't need protection,_ " she mumbled the last part with a small frown.

"The truth? There's more to you than just having extra Magic and being a Seer?" Guillaume gasped, disbelief clear on his face.

Hermione dropped her hand to her side when he continued to stand on the other side of the living room. When Aberforth had recommended she tell Guillaume the whole truth over the Christmas break she had been thrilled by the idea. Guillaume already knew about her Magic and thought her to be a Seer, so how could him knowing the real story be any more dangerous? Hermione had not expected this reluctance from him, however. The Time-Traveller moved her jaw from side to side in a nervous gesture before she spoke.

"Not everything you know about me is true," she confessed, wincing.

"You lied to me?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Hermione was taken aback. _Was that all he had to say to her announcement?_ "But - well, the fact is, you've somehow managed to find out about my most dangerous secrets, even if they were lies and slightly incomplete truths. And Aberforth came to the surprisingly insightful observation that those lies make you no safer than the truth so really, nothing should stop me from telling you the real truth... Unless, you don't wish to know the truth?" Hermione rushed to say it all in almost one breath, afraid of his final answer.

Her brother was staring at her intensely, his gaze unreadable. He sighed. "I had resigned myself to the thought of never knowing the truth about you. I could tell there was still something you were keeping from me, something that McGonagall, Pomfrey, Aberforth and Albus knew-"

"And Remus."

"Pardon?"

"Remus knows," she confided but hurried to explain at Guillaume's raised eyebrow. "He only knows because he heard Pandora mention Bligmys. It's a long story, one that I will tell you all about. If you come with me."

With those words, Hermione once again held out her hand and waited patiently. "I do hope this story of yours isn't too long because I have a date with one Apolline De Chaillé tonight."

Hermione gasped, a large grin spreading across her face. "You finally asked her on a date?"

"Finally _officially_ asked," Guillaume corrected with a grin as he took his sister's hand and followed her outside. "So, where to?"

"The Hog's Head. Aberforth will be able to help explain things."

* * *

Guillaume had an expression of extreme concentration on his face as he thought over everything he had just heard. A tense silence had spread in Aberforth's kitchen with Hermione shifting uncomfortably and Aberforth leaning back in his seat, appearing unconcerned. Guillaume opened his mouth to speak, looking from the girl to the old man and back again.

"So, if I got all this straight: you, Hermione, were sent from the future by Merlin's and the Founders' Magic?" Hermione nodded. "And you thought that pretending to be a Seer was safer than disclosing the fact that you were a Time-Traveller?" Another nod. "I don't necessarily agree with that logic, because a Seer is far more valuable than someone who knows only one future but I suppose it would put people looking for you on the wrong track."

"Do you understand why I didn't tell you then?"

The French wizard rubbed the back of his neck and released a loud breath. "I believe I might have done the same in your position," he relented.

"I must admit the whole 'I have Merlin and the Founders' Magic within me' threw me for a loop, I knew you had extra Cores but for those Cores to come from the most powerful wizards of all time... Not even your time travelling surprised me more."

"I was as surprised as you by all this, though I discovered it gradually as opposed to you," Hermione joked.

"You never cease to amaze me, Mia. You just can't do things the normal way can you? Time travelling a few hours into the past too boring for you? Taking one extra Core not complex enough as it is?"

"I like to stand out," Hermione shrugged, head held high, despite that being a complete lie: if there was one thing she would like to avoid, it was standing out. At least in regards to this.

Guillaume shook his head in bemusement. "Tell me, how exactly did you end up telling Remus before me? Sure he's a nice kid but come on, how could you not tell me first?" Guillaume spoke, gesturing exaggeratedly at his body as if his appearance explained all his reasonings.

"I never intended on telling Remus, not any time soon at least. But he's a meddlesome boy that will never leave well-enough alone," Hermione muttered. "Though if it reassures you, you know more than him. He is clueless about the whole Magical Cores issue."

"Ah, at least I have that," he sighed.

"Anyway... To make a long story short, there was a moment at school when I was going through a mild breakdown. This was around the moment when I discovered I was a Parslemouth," she specified. "One day Pandora commented on the fact that the usual hords of Bligmys that surrounded me were missing. Bligmys are invisible creatures attracted to those 'touched by time'," Hermione explained at her brother's befuddled expression. "Remus, of course, was curious and I suppose my slip-ups only served to fuel his determination to find out what was 'off' about me. He ended up putting the pieces together and tried to trick me into admitting my secret. We had a brief fight and then finally, when he decided he was ready for the answers, he confronted me and I told him everything. Well, obviously not _everything._ But a lot."

She smiled hopefully at her brother, praying to whatever higher powers existed that he would not be angry. That he would not feel betrayed. Hermione felt like she was going to burst and was just about to break the silence when Guillaume leaned across the table and took her hands in his.

"We're okay, Hermione," he spoke, his tone intense, willing her to believe him. "We'll always be okay. Just- no more secrets, alright?"

"No more," Hermione agreed.

"Good. So if you ever need to talk about a nightmare? Come to me. You need someone to come with you on one of your 'defeat the Dark Lord' missions? I'm your guy. Anything you need, come see me."

"You really are the best brother I could ask for."

"Ugh," Aberforth grimaced, downing his Firewhiskey. "I'll be leaving."

Hermione turned towards him sharply. "No, you won't be! I invited Guillaume here to tell him the truth but not only. Two birds with one stone, Aberforth, and it's about time you and I talked."

Abe sighed, this time flopping back into his seat and taking a direct swig from the bottle of alcohol on the table. "I had hoped you'd forgotten about that."

"You should know me better by now," Hermione chided.

"Such a topic is dangerous to even talk about," he attempted to dissuade her.

"My whole existence is dangerous. What can one more deadly secret do?" Hermione asked, nonchalantly.

"Hermione, this isn't a game. People die or they disappear when they go after the Book."

"The chances of me dying or disappearing are already so high I doubt it'll even make a difference," she shrugged.

Aberforth huffed and Guillaume glared at her indifference towards her safety. "Very well... I can see you won't be giving in either way."

Hermione leaned forwards in anticipation as Aberforth continued to speak. "Not much is known about the book Merlin wrote and most of what _is_ known is conjecture, supposition. Though, there is one fact that none argue: all those who have sought Merlin's Book have found an untimely end. It's somewhat ironic that people have lived and died trying to reach a Book that, for all we know, doesn't exist. Since no one has found it, no one can prove it's existence. Overtime, people have put the Book out of their minds, forgetting about it and letting the existence of the Book turn into legend, rumour.

"When Merlin died, a long period of public unrest followed. People fought, cheated, lied and killed in an attempt to get the Book that, supposedly, Merlin had mentioned on his deathbed. Finally, after years of no one seeing hide nor hair of the Book, most gave up... but there were, as in every moment in history, the few fanatics who continued their quest to find Merlin's Book. Through them, the knowledge of Merlin's Book lived on.

"As I told you I would, I researched the Book but, truth be told, I found little to nothing concrete. Many say the Book was simply an ordinary journal, others claim it is just an everyday spell register, but some, believe it to be something far more interesting: a book filled with Merlin's inventions and thoughts. Back in the day, one did not have to be Caster in order to create spells, in fact, you were not even obligated to declare a new spell, so you can imagine how _alluring_ a book of undeclared spells invented by the most powerful wizard would be, nowadays - and even back then.

"The main problem about the Book is not what's in it - because, no matter what is in that book, it is a sacred artifact, whether it's full of mundane thoughts or spells, those would be written down by Merlin, which makes them infinitely valuable. No, the problem with Merlin's Book is that no one actually knows where the Book is hidden. From what I've found, there are only a few locations where the Book could apparently be concealed. Merlin's tomb being the most likely place."

"His tomb?" Guillaume asked, disbelief clear in his tone. "Wouldn't that be fairly _too_ obvious?"

Hermione tilted her head towards her brother to show she agreed with his point and Aberforth nodded. "Of course, that's what most people believe. However, scarcely anyone seems to realize something very important about Merlin: he was a very obvious wizard."

"I'm not sure I understand," Hermione admitted with a frown.

"What I mean is, Merlin was never one for sly ways. He never was one to mislead others. He never lied. I found some of his official statements in an ancient record from his time period where he declared: 'my tomb will be sealed along with my secret.' Not secrets. But _secret."_

"You think his secret was his book," Hermione concluded.

"I suspect it is," Aberforth nodded. "In fact, I'm almost certain of it."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and stared into her glass filled with pumpkin juice. "Hermione, you're not actually thinking about going after Merlin's Book, are you?" Guillaume questioned, worried.

"Of course, I am," the witch replied.

"But you could die."

"We've already been over this, haven't we?"

"I- well... I don't approve," Guillaume declared.

"Brother, dearest, now that you know the truth about me, might I just remind you that while I may look 13, I'm actually 18 years old. In fact, if we're going to get technical about it, seeing as I've spent over three years here, I'm closer to 21."

"Maybe in your time but here, you are 100% thirteen going onto fourteen. Do you even feel 21 in your mind?" Guillaume demanded.

Hermione snapped her mouth open to retort but grimaced. "Not completely. I feel quite like how I felt back when I was this age the first time around," she admitted.

"You were never very childish, were you?" The blond man teased.

"I suppose not - and becoming friends with Harry didn't make me any younger, mentally that is. I always had to be the logical one in the group and we always had to be ready for the worst."

Guillaume pulled Hermione into his arms and caressed the back of her head gently. "Hermione, you're already doing so much. You've saved so many lives and you can continue to do so by continuing the way you have been... You deserve to be young and carefree."

"I couldn't be that way when I was friends with Harry. And doing so now just feels wrong. I'm here for a reason, and until I accomplish whatever I'm meant to do, I can't sit still and _do_ nothing."

"But you haven't been doing nothing," Guillaume countered.

"What happens if I wait too long and I end up not being able to save Harry, Ron, Tonks, Albus?"

"You will save them, and so many others. Just remember Hermione, no matter how soon you start, nor what you do or what precautions you take, you won't be able to save everyone. So please, have a break and be a normal teenager for at least one more year, without worrying about Merlin's Book."

"One more year?"

"You have my permission to start whatever mission you want in your fifth year, but, you have to tell me about it."

"Fifth year is going to be busy enough without the extra goal," Hermione muttered, thinking about the Marauders. "But very well, I agree. Even if I was 18 once, here I am 13 and you are my legal guardian... I'll respect your wishes."

Guillaume hugged his little sister tightly. " _Merci, ma puce_ ," he whispered.

* * *

"Oh bloody hell, it's happening again!" James yelled.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Sirius exclaimed.

"You can't be serious," Peter moaned.

Sirius smirked. "Well, yes, actually I am."

"Now is not the time for your name pun!" Remus claimed, waving his wand in a vain attempt to stop the gooey, sparkly, pink, popping slime seeping from the fireplace.

"This was not what we had planned!" James hollered, as he stabbed his wand helplessly, hoping for one of his spells to work.

"It farts," Sirius observed, as a large bubble popped in his face, covering him in the goop and indeed sounding quite like a fart.

"Remus! Do something!" James encouraged, flailing wildly.

"It's NOT WORKING!" Remus shouted, frantic.

The door opened slowly and someone walked in, their head buried in a book. "Your mother told me to join you while she prepared di- MERLIN!" Hermione yelped when she lifted her head from the book.

It fell to the floor as she leapt away from the slime licking at her feet. "What is that?!" She shrieked, pressing herself away from the unidentified substance.

"A mistake!" James cried.

"Delacour! Do something!" Sirius screamed.

In a flash, Hermione had her wand in hand and was waving it in well practiced movements, and with the help of Remus, she easily spelled the odd substance away.

"Phew, that was close," James breathed in relief.

"We almost died!" Sirius stated.

"Good thing Delacour arrived when she did," Peter agreed.

"I hardly believe you would have died, no need to be dramatic," she huffed.

"Thanks for the help Hermione, I was getting nowhere on my own," Remus said, gratefully.

Hermione strolled over to the couch and dropped down onto it, spreading out her skirts carefully to maintain her modesty as the boys went back to sitting on the floor by the fireplace and scribbling on a bunch of scrolls about everything that had gone wrong with their prank preparation. At least twenty minutes passed, before the boys rolled up their scrolls and pulled out a deck of Exploding Snap.

"Want to play, Delacour?" Sirius asked.

Hermione started and stared at Sirius with wide eyes. "You're asking me to play?" She was incredulous.

She would have expected Remus to offer and James might have proposed she join, Peter was shy but even he was more likely to suggest she participate than Sirius.

"If you don't want to play, you could just say no," Sirius grumbled, glaring at her.

At this, Hermione perked up. "That's more like you! And thank you, I'd quite like to play."

"Don't know why I offered," he muttered.

"Come now, Sirius, don't be grumpy," James admonished in fake seriousness.

"I'm allowed to be grumpy, I'm pink, in case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, don't be fooled, we didn't say anything but we noticed," James smirked, nodding with a raised eyebrow.

"You could've said something," Sirius complained.

"It was funnier this way," Remus responded, but paused thoughtfully. "Though, I wonder if we should be concerned by how long it took for you to notice..."

Sirius turned his glare onto Hermione. "I know you're to blame for this. You think I haven't noticed that you removed the pink from everything except me?!" He growled.

"Removing colour from skin is much more complex and delicate to do, I can't risk turning your skin pink permanently! Why do you think Lily walked around dyed red for a whole week after James pranked her?"

"Godric, I'm not going to have to walk around pink for a whole week am I?"

There was a flash as Sirius stared horrified, eyes wide and mouth gaping at Hermione, who threw her head back and laughed while James shoved his best friend and threw his arm around Remus' shoulders.

"This'll be one to remember," James told Remus, who nodded with a smile tugging at his lips.

"Thought it would be a good idea to catch it on film," Peter informed them, holding out the camera he had just used to take a picture.

"Peter, you absolute genius!" James declared, grabbing his friend and kissing his cheek.


	25. Chapter 25: Those who wear dresses

**A/N: Here we go! One more chapter for year four! And possibly joined with the summer break. Then we move on to year five. Things are going to heat up there. Possibilities, possibilities. Hihihi. Anyway, I hope the wait wasn't too long and that you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Read and review, please! (And thank you for the lovely reviews for the last chapter, as well as the followers and favouriters!)**

 **Disclaimer: Honestly, at this point, you should all know who owns what. And a little fandom inspiration.**

The sun had recently started making a reappearance in the Scottish sky, suggesting the arrival of mid-spring and encouraging students to wander outside after their classes. Hermione and Adrian were comfortably settled on their usual boulder by the lake, completing their assigned reading and soaking up the warm sun rays shining down on them despite the cool breeze.

"Have you finished the potion assignment?" Adrian wondered, as he flipped a page.

"Of course," she replied, moving a hand to fiddle with one of his messy locks at the nape of his neck. "Have you?" She inquired, teasingly tugging at his hair.

Swatting her hand away with a chuckle, Adrian tilted his head back to look at her. "Finished it today."

"Why were you asking?" Hermione asked, curious.

"I was talking with Pandora this morning at breakfast and she suggested we try finding and talking to the Grey Lady," he informed her.

"So you want to spend the whole afternoon, searching for the _one_ Hogwarts ghost that doesn't want to be seen?" Hermione frowned, wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck, hoping to protect herself from the slight chill setting in.

"Talking to her could be a fascinating experience! Imagine everything she could tell us."

Hermione rolled her eyes, re-opening her book. "That's assuming she would actually say anything of value if she were to let herself be found," the witch scoffed.

"You sound skeptical," Adrian observed. "It's odd how you seem to think that the chances of the Grey Lady speaking to us is more unlikely than Heliopaths existing."

"I'm just being realistic. The Grey Lady has always preferred isolating herself."

"Well, you have quite a negative opinion of our house ghost," Adrian huffed.

"It is not negative, it's truthful acceptance," Hermione defended. "She is perfectly entitled to her self-isolation. It's her choice."

"Okay, fine, perhaps she's not the most social of ghosts, but she's very pleasant to us Ravenclaws!"

"Oh, yes... She's suitably courteous with us but if you plan on spending all afternoon asking her for directions you can count me out. 'The library is two corridors down, my dear,', 'Those staircases will lead you straight to the Ravenclaw courtyard, sweet boy', 'Oh, my darling child, that is the _girls_ lavatory.'" Hermione imitated, her voice growing louder at every new quote.

"That was one time!" Adrian yelled, his face turning red in embarrassment.

Hermione giggled at his reaction. "Point is: you need directions to a place in the castle? She's your ghost. You want an intelligent conversation about something? Find yourself another ghost."

Crossing his arms in frustration, Adrian sighed. "Fine, then what would you suggest we do?"

Hermione gazed up at the clouds as she considered their possibilities. When an idea hit her, she smirked and fiddled with Adrian's hair again. "Ever heard of the Room of Requirement?"

"Of course I have. You're not suggesting we try finding it, are you? That would take far more then one afternoon to achieve."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not suggesting _that..._ because I've already found it," she told him, smugly.

"You're joking!?"

"No, I am not."

"That-that is bloody amazing! Let's go! I _have_ to see it!"

"Only if you promise to keep it secret. The Room will kind of loose its charm if the whole school knows about it."

"I promise! This isn't the type of information you spread freely!"

Hermione smiled brightly. "Follow me, then," Hermione spoke, mischievously.

* * *

Hermione took a peek over the top of the book she was reading but quickly ducked back down when she noticed that the occupants of the table on the other side of the library were looking back at her. Taking refuge behind the book that she had purposefully propped up as a protective barrier, Hermione sighed, her eyes restlessly scanning the words on the page without taking them in. After a few moments, she dared another glance but her eyes widened when her gaze met the blond haired boy's one. She gasped and quickly looked away. Not being able to resist the temptation, Hermione was soon risking another look and huffed when the Hufflepuff boys at the table laughed and shoved each other.

"You have been huffing and gasping incessantly since we got here, so please tell us what is the matter so that you'll _finally._ Shut. Up," Regulus complained, annoyed that her continuous noises disturbed him from concentrating on his work.

"Nothing is the matter. Don't mind me," Hermione waved off his question.

"Now see here, Hermione, I would _love_ to 'not mind you', but I can't. Because you seem intent on disturbing our peace and quiet!" Regulus snapped with a glare.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I'll try to be silent from now on," she apologized.

"Thank you," Severus breathed out, just as relieved as his Slytherin friend for the assurance of silence to come.

Nodding stiffly, Hermione went back to staring blankly at her book. Remus shifted in his seat, leaning towards Hermione and speaking from the corner of his mouth in an attempt to not be heard by the grumpy Slytherins.

"So... What's wrong, Hermione? Don't deny it because there obviously is something bothering you," he encouraged softly.

"There's truly nothing wrong," Hermione assured.

Remus raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Hermione," he paused, speaking in a 'no-nonsense' voice. "You're reading a book on the twelve uses of dragon blood."

"You should know by now that I enjoy educating myself."

"Correction: you're _re-reading_ a book on the uses of dragon blood," he declared. "I know for a fact that you borrowed it from the library two months ago."

"It happens to be a fascinating read!" The witch defended.

"I've read the book, Hermione. Dragon blood uses. Twelve of them," he repeated pointedly.

"Yes, you've made it quite clear that that _is_ what I'm reading," she puffed in annoyance.

"That book is excruciating to read. All twelve hundred pages of it. The fact that you've been reading the same page over and over again for the past hour is confirmation enough of that," he grinned triumphantly, knowing he had her beat.

Grimacing Hermione leaned closer to him as well, taking the opportunity to check out the boys at the table.

"Fine. Don't look right now, but there's a group of Hufflepuff boys at the table straight across from ours on the other side of the library and they keep looking over here."

Carefully, both her and Remus took a peek. Hermione's eyes widened comically when the boys met her gaze confidently. Before she could stop herself, a gasp escaped her and in her struggle to hold it in at the last minute, an odd strangled noise passed her lips instead. Her try at silencing herself only resulted in her receiving two sharp glares from Severus and Regulus.

"I'm sorry," she whispered with a wince, causing the boys to roll their eyes and go back to their work without a word.

Chuckling under his breath, Remus brought her attention back to the problem at hand. "One of those blokes obviously wants to invite you to the next Hogsmeade outing," he informed her. "It's nothing to worry about."

"What?! But they're _boys!"_

 _"_ Hmm, I wasn't aware that you swung for the same team."

"I don't, Remus. I just meant that they're literally boys! If I were to go on a date with one of them, it would be like - like _pedophilia!"_ She whisper-yelled, scandalized.

"Hermione, physically, you're thirteen. Them? They're fourteen at the oldest. They're older than you," he reasoned.

"Perhaps. But as you say, that's _physically_. Mentally, I'm eighteen at the youngest!"

"Do you feel eighteen?"

Hermione opened her mouth, ready to retort but hesitated when she actually considered his question. With a frown she answered thoughtfully. "Maybe not... It's odd. I know I _should_ feel older and yet... and yet I really don't," she admitted in realization.

"Exactly. So it's perfectly acceptable for you to agree to go on dates with blokes your age," he concluded, satisfied with his reasoning.

"I suppose," she relented, reluctantly. "It still feels wrong."

"Once you've been out a few times, you'll get over it."

Releasing a deep breath Hermione nodded and stood to put her book away. It would be the perfect opportunity for one of those boys to approach her and finally let her go back to studying in peace. _Honestly, this was fourth year all over again,_ she complained to herself. _Literally,_ she added, giggling at her own personal inside joke.

* * *

It had been two peaceful weeks since the Hufflepuff boys disturbed her in the Library, and one week since her 'date' with the sweet Davey Gudgeon - who had thankfully not yet had his unfortunate meeting with the Whomping Willow. That peace and quiet was not meant to last however, and it was as she and Adrian were on their way to meet Lily in the Charms classroom, that she found herself having the most ridiculous argument with the Marauders.

"You can't beat me in a fight, Delacour," James scoffed, waving off her fury.

"You think I can't fight you just because I'm a girl," Hermione snarled, hitching up her skirts.

 _"Noooo,"_ James said, drawing out the word as if she were daft. "I think you can't fight because you're in a dress," he paused, thoughtfully looking the dress over. "To be fair, I don't think even Sirius could win while fighting in that dress."

"Perhaps not, but I'd look damn fine while loosing in it," Sirius claimed, confidently.

"Don't even go there, Sirius," Remus tried to dissuade him.

"Oh really?" Hermione looked towards him, eyeing Sirius in disbelief. "I doubt that. I'd be willing to bet you'd look ridiculous," she challenged, completely forgetting about her previous anger.

"Challenge accepted! Just wait and see, Delacour. I will wear that dress and I will own it!"

"Oh. Oh, dear little Black..." Hermione spoke, her gaze pitying. "No boy, no matter how unattractive or attractive, skinny or muscular, could 'own it' as you say, wearing this dress."

"No boy, except me," he contradicted.

"No, even you can't," she assured him with a grimace and a comforting pat on his forearm.

"Just you wait and see, come tonight you'll be singing a different tune!" Sirius hollered as he hurried away. " _Delacour, acting all high and mighty in her dress, never even worn a dress before today,_ " he muttered as he stomped away.

The group stared after him, eyebrows high. "He's not actually going to wear a dress tonight, is he?" Adrian wondered.

"If you have to ask, you don't know him well enough, mate," James replied, with a shake of his head.

"He's going to regret it," Remus commented.

"Adrian, make sure to bring your camera to the Great Hall, yeah?" James recommended.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving it behind," Adrian stated.

"On that note, you and I really must be going," Hermione reminded Adrian and turned to inform the left over Marauders. "Adrian and I are working with Lily on an extra-credit assignment for Charms."

"Why would you even _want_ to?" James asked, incredulous as the two Ravenclaw students departed.

Not deigning to answer, Hermione and Adrian headed straight in the direction of the Charms classroom.

"Do you think I would look good in the dress?" Adrian wondered.

At Hermione's raised eyebrows he hurried to explain himself. "Not because I _want_ to wear the dress, just out of curiosity: would I be able to pull it off? Not that I'll ever try it... That would be ridiculous so no, don't worry about that!"

Hermione laughed and wrapped her arm around her friend. "You shouldn't concern yourself with wondering about it, Adrian. I wasn't trying to goad Sirius. No guy can look good or manly in a dress."

A few hours later in the Great Hall Hermione dropped her spoon into her bowl of soup as she stared, wide eyed at the entrance. His appearance only caused a brief silence to spread throughout the hall before everyone merely shrugged it off, not overly shocked by the fact that Sirius Black was wearing a dress. It wasn't the weirdest thing they'd ever seen him do.

Later, just as she was getting ready to leave, Hermione turned in her seat, leaned over the aisle and tapped Sirius on the shoulder.

"I was wrong, Sirius. You look positively flamboyant in a dress," she admitted, grinning when Sirius straightened his figure proudly.

"Are you serious, Hermione?" Remus questioned, surprised.

"Oh yes, it truly accentuates your womanly figure, Sirius," she stated, standing and walking away. "You should wear dresses more often."

When she reached the great doors, she flippantly threw one last comment over her shoulder. "Colour suits you, Sirius." And with those words, she left the oldest Black sibling, spluttering behind her.

* * *

Tom leaned back in his armchair and swirled his drink in the crystal glass. Abraxas Malfoy shifted uneasily in his seat, unsure of what to do. A young girl was kneeling by the fireplace, her hands in her lap and her head bowed. Her face was obscured by the shadows cast by the crackling fire, but from time to time, the light caught her face just right, reflecting in her dark, blank eyes, revealing nothing of what she felt. At least to the casual observer. Tom, on the other hand, could read her like an open book.

"Is this the girl, then?" Riddle checked, his gaze flicking quickly towards the girl. That brief glance enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

Abraxas nodded and swallowed. "Yes, Sire."

Tom sighed, his facial expression showing him to be equal part bored and unaffected. Instead of saying anything else, Voldemort simply took a sip of his firewhisky.

Finally, after a moment of silence, he spoke again. "And she has been properly trained?"

"By her father himself," Malfoy confirmed.

At those words, the Dark Lord allowed a flash of interest to gleam in his eyes. Taking his gaze off of the girl, who appeared to be barely out of her teens, he faced the blond man. "Has your son any new information about Hermione Delacour?"

Taken aback by the sudden change of conversation, Abraxas had to take a short moment to process the question. "I'm afraid not, my Lord. He has approached her a number of times, but claims she appears to be somewhat wary of him."

Tom nodded. "Yes, I'm not surprised," he murmured, recalling the first time he had met the child. "But remind him that he only has until the end of his schooling to gain her trust. I need not remind you what the consequences will be, should he fail?" He verified.

"No, my Lord," Malfoy confirmed, shuddering as he recalled the skinless body of Taliesin he had had to remove from his dungeons a few months prior.

"Good," Riddle said, satisfied as he looked back at the girl by the flames.

Silence fell once again over the three present in the living room. Tom let himself observe the girl more closely, pleased to see she had still not moved an inch, even when his attention was turned away from her. Leaning forward in his seat, Tom rested his elbows on his knees, looking as elegant as before, his whole appearance pristine.

Tilting his head slightly, Tom let a small smile grace his lips while his eyes remained impassive. "What is your name, girl? It seems to have slipped my mind," he apologized.

"Adelaide Carrow, Sire," she answered softly.

"Your brothers are Sigmund and Otis, are they not?"

"Yes, Sire."

"And what of Elmer?"

"He is my cousin once removed, Sire. Our families are not close."

"A wise move, my dear, subtly distancing yourself from a blood-traitor."

"It is the truth, my Lord."

Tom finished off his drink, watching as Adelaide separated her hands, placing one on each thigh.

"For how long were you trained by your father?"

"Eighteen years, Sire, but this past year without him, I trained myself."

"Did you?" Tom inquired, his lips quirking in amusement as she obviously seeked his approval. "Stand up," he ordered.

With no hesitation, the girl complied to his order and stood, still bowing her head and quickly making sure her black - and very modest - dress was free of any creases. At his command she looked up and met his gaze. Her blue eyes were almost blank, the only emotions slightly visible were a touch a awe and fear. Placing his glass on the table, the Dark Lord moved closer to her, forcing Adelaide to tilt her head in order to keep eye contact with him.

"Will you please me, Miss Carrow?" Tom asked, softly.

"Yes, Sire," she breathed.

Voldemort bent his neck slightly, a smile tugging at his lips, moving his body strategically close to hers so that they almost touched but not quite, making it so that she craved his touch. If he played his cards right, that is.

"Will you obey my every command, love?" He spoke, almost whispering.

"Yes, my Lord," she agreed, her gaze flickering with a mixture of desperation and amazement.

"And what would you want as a reward?" He asked, in the same voice as before.

"Nothing... but your approval," she told him, her breathing speeding up.

Tom stepped back, his gaze intense with what some could mistake as strong sexual desire but was in fact a lust of a whole different kind. However, Tom was willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted and keep it. Like dogs, if he kept his rewards tempting enough, his followers would always return to him after severe punishment. This girl would be no different.

Smirking, Tom poured himself another drink. "My approval is not easily given but if you satisfy me enough, you shall have it."

It was then, at that very moment, that the girl's face finally revealed her feelings as it lit up with unrestrained hope and her body trembled with a desperate need to please him.

"Thank you, my Lord."

Nodding, Riddle turned away from her, holding his arm out for the owl that had just soared in. Tugging the letter from it's beak and taking a swig from his glass, Tom opened the note with a refined and practised gesture. Letting the bird fly away, he straightened the paper in his grasp and quickly scanned the note. As he absorbed the words, a large and excited, if slightly evil grin found its way onto his face. Folding the small parchment, he slipped it into his pocket and turned to face Adelaide Carrow.

"The perfect opportunity has presented itself, Miss Carrow," he said, his tone still as soft as before, but the wicked smirk spreading across his lips betrayed his eager anticipation. "You'll soon be having the chance to demonstrate your... _special_ set of skills."

 **A/N: And that is it. I really hope you liked it! Just a little spoiler, though it was probably easy to guess: We'll be seeing a lot more of little Miss Carrow in the chapters to come. And you'll be getting to know her quite personally. So hopefully, you'll enjoy her character because I quite like her and when I like someone, I write about them a lot. Except Taliesin. I loved him but his 'living' role had to be short.** **Oops. It's best I stop talking now before I reveal too much!**

 **Tell me what you thought! And please, don't hesitate to point out any inconsistencies I may have missed or typos.**


	26. Chapter 26: Wilhelm Worthy

**A/N: Okay so I had a review of a previous chapter. Chapter 22. At one point, Guillaume says 'Putain' and I was asked why Guillaume was calling his sister a whore. I have to say straight off: He wasn't. In France, while the direct definition does mean whore, we Frenchies use it as an exclamation of surprise, annoyance, frustration, etc... Like the F-word or shite.**

 **Sorry, I really felt like clearing that up just in case others had the same question. Also, the reviewer was a guest so I couldn't just answer them privately. Hehehe. As always, it's a pleasure to clear up confusions and other inquiries!**

 **PS. Thank you to** Juliethobo **for pointing out an error in one of my earlier chapters. You were right about the year. However, Hermione's age was intentional. James' not.**

Adelaide Carrow laughed full-heartedly as she twirled on the dance floor, catching the attention of many of the men present in the ballroom. Her burgundy dress flew around her legs as she moved to the music and her long auburn hair had come partly undone from its fancy updo because of all her activity throughout the evening.

Adelaide was fully aware of the stares directed at her right at that very moment. She knew how to use her assets, she always had. Her attractiveness was nothing new. As she had grown, her body had filled out in all the right places and she had quickly transformed from a sweet looking child into a curvaceous woman that men lusted after. She had carefully chosen her current dress to display all her curves while still being refined, the exact opposite of the modest dress she had worn when she first met the Dark Lord. Her personality also differed greatly. Gone was the shy and submissive girl from the other night, in her stead was a gregarious and confident woman commanding the attention of everyone present.

As she threw her head back in her final twirl across the dance floor she met the intense gaze of Tom Riddle, standing at the edge of the dance floor, surrounded by his loyal band of 'friends'. Staying focused, she kept her attention on her dance partner. The last one of the night. Smiling at him she let herself be pulled back towards him and purposefully moved in closer than was appropriate for a dance floor. Raising a perfectly manicured hand to rest on his collar bone, she let her breath fan against his neck before she murmured into his ear.

"I think I could quite use some air," she said, letting her lips brush against his ear lobe.

Wilhelm Worthy smiled genially. "Allow me to accompany you."

The witch slid her arm through his and led him towards a side door leading to an antechamber. Men watched in envy as they saw them cross the room to leave. Ever the gentleman, Wilhelm went to open the door for the lady on his arm and gestured her through. Adelaide thanked him and glanced towards Tom who was watching her closely. She tilted her head and had to hold in her grin when Tom Riddle nodded. Turning away, Adelaide entered the chamber and closed the door as soon as Wilhelm walked inside. Quickly, she pulled him towards her as she leaned against the wall, letting their bodies rub together.

"I thought you wanted some air," he whispered, seeming genuinely surprised by these chain of events.

Adelaide frowned. _Had he truly not picked up on the signals she was sending his way all evening, even while she was dancing with other men?_ She rolled her shoulders. _She would have to work on being clearer next time. Perhaps she wasn't as good as she believed. Or perhaps he was oblivious._ She backed her head away from his and gave him a once over. _Yes, likely he_ was _oblivious. He wasn't attractive. He was rather plain and he was not rich, not compared to the other men present this evening, who were both handsome and full of fortune. And the ones who weren't handsome had sums of money that quickly made up for their physiques. Chances were this was the first time he had ever received such signals. Especially from a woman like her,_ she concluded.

 _"_ That was an excuse, my sweet," she admitted, her fingers playing with the sensitive hairs at the nape of his neck. "To get you out of that busy hall full of prying socialites."

"Oh," he breathed as he shut his eyes, enjoying the sensations her fingers were eliciting.

"Tell me, my sweet, are you often naughty like this? Sneaking away from a social gathering in order to have your wicked way with innocent young ladies?"

Wilhelm's eyes snapped open in shock at the accusation, completely missing the teasing note in her voice. "That was not my intention, I assure you!"

"I was merely jesting, my sweet," she reassured him, her left hand continuing its ministrations in his hair while the other hand trailed down his chest.

She hummed, pleased when she felt the contours of well-defined muscles hidden under his fancy wizarding robes. At least there was that. The man groaned as her hand caressed him but before Adelaide could finish what she had started, the door opened and the witch reluctantly yanked her hand away from her fun. Sighing, she pushed the slightly dazed wizard away from her and moved closer to the Dark Lord. _Her_ Dark Lord.

"My Lord," she greeted, curtsying deeply as a show of her respect for the admirable sorcerer.

Satisfied by her acknowledgment of him, he tugged her to his side and slipped an arm around her waist. He let his hand rest casually on her hip and his thumb caressed her in sensual circles. He smirked when she shivered.

"Excellent work, love," he congratulated her, a soft smile replacing his smirk. "You are quite the actress, it seems."

Adelaide preened under his approval and lifted her chin proudly, submissively joining her hands together in front of her and bowing her head when he released her. A sneer found its way across his lips when he turned away from the girl. Her rewards ended here for now. She had pleased him, yes, but she still had a lot to do to prove herself to him. Still, he found it was an excellent gift, having her willing to do anything for him for a simple word of approval or a meaningless touch from him. Her father had trained her well, indeed.

"Perfect for luring out prey," he murmured, eyeing the man pressed against the wall, surprised by the change of events. "Goodnight, Sir Wilhelm Worthy."

"Enchanting evening," he greeted back.

Tom chuckled. "I'm quite sure it is not the evening you find enchanting."

"I-" He stopped abruptly as he thought over what to say. "Can I help you with anything, Lord Riddle?"

A dark expression grew on Voldemort's face. "Yes, I believe you can."

He turned and held out a hand towards Adelaide who had gone to stand beside Abraxas and Yaxley. "Miss Carrow."

Quietly, Adelaide Carrow, shuffled forward until she was face to face with the man she had been about to 'have a bit of fun' with earlier. She had known this was coming, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like it. That was to say, she didn't dislike it either, she simply preferred the pleasures of the flesh taking place before what was about to happen. Abraxas whispered an incantation, preventing Wilhelm from being able to move. Adelaide, hesitantly peeked at the Dark Lord, not wanting to risk his wrath by starting before he wished her to.

Yaxley silenced the room and locked the doors. Tom, with a dark grin on his lips, nodded.

The screams of pain and terror started.

The party continued on, oblivious.

* * *

"I must have misunderstood because I really don't follow," Lily apologized, eyeing the group in front of her skeptically.

"Come sit with us," James repeated.

Lily's eyes widened further. "Alright, no, that _is_ what I heard. And while it reassures me that _I'm_ not loosing _my_ mind, it concerns me _greatly_ as to the condition of _your_ brain," she claimed in disgust.

"What?" James asked, glancing at Sirius who shrugged and Remus who returned his look with an 'I told you so' look. "So that's a no?"

"Of course, that's a no you thick headed pig! You are not my friend James Potter! You and Sirius are both despicable! Peter is tolerable, I suppose. But honestly, why in the world would I sit with you?! The only redeeming quality in your _Marauders_ gang is Remus and I'm _still_ wondering what Remus is doing in your merry band of friends. I would rather sit surrounded by a mess of snakes than sit with you!" Lily yelled, stomping away from the group.

"Well, that was rude," James huffed.

"A simple 'no, thank you' would have sufficed," Sirius agreed.

"Tolerable?" Peter murmured to himself, dejected.

Hermione sighed. "Well, it's not like you've given her any reason to be polite to you lot. You spend most of your time bullying her. If you're not bullying her, you're bullying her friends. Why would she be nice to you?"

"We've stopped bullying her, though, haven't we?" Peter interjected.

"Have you?" Hermione questioned, doubtful. "I haven't noticed."

"Course we have, Delacour," Sirius interjected. "We still tease her, yes, but we're not bullying her anymore."

"What's the difference?" Hermione sniffed.

"We don't call her names, we just prank her," James clarified.

"Like we do with you now," Sirius added.

"You still call me names," Hermione puffed, with a glare at Sirius.

"Old habits die hard, Delacour," Sirius shrugged, carelessly. "Besides, you're fun when you're all riled up."

"Point is, we're nice to Evans now, yet she still acts like we're her worst enemies," James complained.

"Hmmm, well... Have you tried apologizing?" Silence was the only response to her question. "No, you haven't," she answered herself as if it should have been obvious. "You don't know how."

"That's not fair!" Peter proclaimed.

"We do too know how to apologize for what we did!" Sirius argued, crossing his arms.

"I find that hard to believe," she scoffed. "We've known each other for a few years now and though we weren't the best of friends at the start, it has still been four years since we've met and I have yet to hear the words "I'm sorry for bullying you" come out of your mouths. It's the least you could say to Lily!"

Hermione didn't hang around to hear their reactions to her rant. She had to admit that she hadn't been speaking only about Lily at the end and she admittedly felt quite a bit embarrassed by her outburst.

* * *

"He was found this morning by Temperance Bode. Apparently, he was a guest at her party last night," Kingsley read from his notes, walking next to his Head Auror, Maximilian Shafiq.

"Time of death?" The Head Auror demanded as he crossed the dance floor.

"None, Sir," Kingsley said, hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not dead."

"Well, then why's he still here? Shouldn't he have been brought to St Mungo's to be checked over?"

"He's not injured either, Sir."

"What is the issue, then?"

Kingsley, noticing they had reached the door leading to the antechamber, decided to let the scene speak for itself. The Head Auror strode purposefully into the room and only faltered for half a second as he took in the sight.

"By Hecate," he breathed.

Blood was splattered on all the walls. The coffee table and two armchairs were ripped apart. A dark rectangle on the floor was in the center of the room, left behind after a rug was recently removed, revealing that the hardwood floor in this room had faded over time in the sun.

"Where's the rug?" The Head Auror asked.

"This way," Shacklebolt gestured towards the side.

They moved to the left side of the room where a twitching rug could be found, huddled in the corner. "Is that Wilhelm Worthy?"

"Yes, Sir. He refuses to leave this room and flinches whenever someone touches him."

"Wilhelm, son," the Auror spoke softly, pulling the rug away from the man. "You're going to have to come with us."

"I can't, I can't," Wilhelm denied. "I don't know. Please."

The Head Auror finally managed to remove the rug and sighed when he noticed the red staining the man's whole body. "I thought you said he was unharmed."

"He is just in shock."

"And the blood?"

"Miss Bode's cats. All three of them torn apart, limb from limb. Their remains have already been removed."

"Did he do it?"

Shacklebolt took a moment before answering. "We don't believe so."

"Wilhelm, we need you to tell us what happened," Shafiq encouraged.

"No, please. I didn't do anything wrong," he whimpered. "Mummy, please."

 _"Mummy?"_

Shacklebolt nodded. "He's been asking for his mother repeatedly."

"Have you called her in? He might be willing to talk to her."

"Smith checked the records. She died ten years ago in St Mungo's due to her lungs suddenly collapsing after she was admitted to the emergency ward. Fell off a broom."

"Alright. Any leads on who might have done this to him?"

"The same man that has been attacking people for the past few years," Kingsley replied, pointedly.

The Auror straightened up and sighed. "Voldemort. What motive would he have to attack Wilhelm Worthy?"

"The Dark Lord has little need for motive, as you well know... But in this case," Kingsley paused, flipping a page in his small notepad. "In this case, it's highly likely that Wilhelm was being pressed for information regarding his close relationship with the muggle Prime Minister."

Shock and anger flashed in the Head Auror's eyes as he boxed Kingsley into a corner, his voice a harsh, low whisper. "That information is confidential. A secret affair. Unless this so-called Dark Lord has an inside man, it's impossible for him to know anything about that!" He declared, placing a warning hand on his new Auror's shoulder.

"It has been speculated that Voldemort is a legilimense, which could explain his knowledge. However, if that isn't the case..." He trailed off, not wanting to declare the other possible scenario that everyone in the room was thinking.

"Yes?" The Head Auror prodded.

"We might have to consider the possibility, Sir, that there is a high-placed mole inside the Ministry. Very high-placed."

* * *

Hermione sat outside the Potter Manor on the swing, kicking her feet. She squeaked when for no apparent reason she fell off. Huffing, Hermione wiped her hands on the grass and sat up. Guillaume, who was sitting on the terrasse with Dorea Potter, laughed at his sister's disgruntled look.

"This is not funny, Guillaume."

"On the contrary, I find your clumsiness quite amusing."

"What a great brother you are," she insulted, standing and walking towards the two adults.

Just as she reached them she tripped over thin air and went flying into her brother's lap. "Merlin! This is getting exhausting! I might just head home," she told her brother, settling comfortably into her brother's lap. Perhaps his arms around her would protect her from another unfortunate fall.

"We just arrived."

"I don't understand why you insist I accompany you everytime you visit the Potters."

"I thought you liked coming here."

"I very much enjoy seeing Dorea, but I see the Marauders too often at Hogwarts as it is. I could use a break during the summer holidays."

Guillaume made a show of looking around. "I don't see them."

Hermione scoffed. "Just because you don't see the Marauders, doesn't mean they're not here. I can smell them. They're up to something."

Guillaume lifted one of his arms and went to chuck her under the chin but barely had time to reach for her again when she tumbled off his lap as she lost her balance. She landed on the ground with a grunt and stubbornly crossed her arms.

"Alright, I'm done. I'm not moving from the ground until we go home."

Shaking their heads, Guillaume and Dorea continued with their conversation, ignoring when Hermione spilled tea down her front and when she fell backward onto her back after a particularly powerful sneeze. It was only when the sun started setting that they decided to go inside. Hermione followed them, carefully running her hands against every surface with the intention of catching herself if she fell. It was futile however because soon enough she was once again on the floor after having tripped over the hem of a carpet in the hallway.

 _"Rowena!_ This is unnatural! I've never been-" Hermione stopped in the middle of her exclamation as a realization hit her. " _Marauders,_ " she spat in disgust.

Keeping her rear firmly on the ground she turned on the spot glaring at everything she saw. "You can stop hiding boys, I've found you out."

Immediately the boys materialized in front of her, grinning and gesturing wildly.

"It worked! I knew it would!" James claimed.

"Congratulations," Hermione granted with a tired expression. "Now reverse whatever you've done to me," she ordered.

"Why would we do that?" Sirius wanted to know. "Watching you fall all day has been very amusing."

"Not for me!" The witch argued.

"Good work Remus on perfecting the spell," James praised.

"Remus!" Hermione exclaimed in shock that he was involved in her current situation.

"You're our prank advisor," Remus said timidly.

"Advisor! Not tester!"

"Same difference," Sirius shrugged.

Hermione shook her head in annoyance and sighed to calm her temper. "So you're planning on enchanting the whole student population of Hogwarts to spend a whole day falling head over heels?"

"Ingenious, isn't it?" James commented, proudly.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Hermione asked.

"It's your job," Peter allowed.

"Add a cushioning charm on people. I'm covered in scratches and bruises because of you lot. If everyone's going to be spending their day with their faces hitting the floor, at least save them from potential pain. Hopefully, that might make it a little fun."

"A nice touch. I like it," Sirius declared, thoughtfully while pointing at the girl.

"I'll get on it," Remus informed.

* * *

"Hermione, you'll be staying here for the night," Guillaume told his sister.

Said witch frowned as she walked towards him. "Why?"

"Something's come up. I need to go to a meeting. Charlus and I will both be going. I'd rather you stay here with Dorea than home alone."

"I could go to Aberforth's," she argued, not really wanting to stay the night.

"No, you can't."

"Right," Hermione breathed, understanding that her question had been foolish.

"Sleep tight, _ma puce_ ," Guillaume said, pulling her into a goodbye hug.

"You'll tell me all about it?" She checked.

"With the help of Abe and Albus," he assured, his voice low so that the eavesdropping Marauders wouldn't hear.

Standing, Guillaume turned towards Charlus who was standing in the doorway having finished his goodbyes as well. It only took moments for the two men to disappear in the green flames, leaving the young teenagers staring after them. Lost in thought, Hermione didn't even notice when Remus stopped at her side with the other boys.

"James says his father has been leaving at the most random moments all summer," he said, softly.

"His mother too, from time to time, when she can get a 'responsible adult' over to keep an eye on us," Sirius muttered, also staring at the fireplace. "Last time, a Miss Weasel came over."

"Weasley," Hermione corrected, automatically.

"Whatever."

"I see your brother is in on it too," James commented.

"What?"

"He left with my dad. He must be a member of whatever organization my father is part of."

"I wouldn't know," Hermione shrugged, turning away.

"So you _don't_ know anything about it?" Remus verified.

"Do you?" She retaliated, avoiding answering.

"Just that they're part of some secret organization fighting Voldemort," James admitted.

At the name, Remus watched Hermione carefully but she refused to react. "How do you know that?" The witch asked.

"We stuck our ear against James' parents' bedroom door," Sirius shrugged as if it should be obvious.

Hermione's face filled with amusement. "You boys might what to be careful what you listen to. Who knows what you could hear with your ear on a bedroom door."

"Eww! Delacour, I don't need to think of my parents doing _that!"_

Miles away, a group of stressed adults was having a much more serious conversation. Those who could attend were all placed around the table, both Guillaume and Aberforth on either side of Albus. No one else ever tried to sit in those two seats. It was common knowledge to all Order members that those seats were reserved for Dumbledore's most trusted men. Not that Dumbledore didn't trust everyone present, simply, the seats directly on Dumbledore's left and right were for the ones who knew absolutely _everything._ Over the course of the years and after every meeting it had become quite clear that both Guillaume and Aberforth were informed about everything. They were never surprised. Never confused. Unofficially, the Order members knew that if Dumbledore were to be absent one day, one or both of them would be in charge. And no one would ever take their seats during a meeting, even if they were absent, just in case they showed up. It was an unspoken agreement between all the members. Sitting beside Dumbledore was a place of honour.

"How could this have happened?!" Mad-Eye Moody demanded, anger contorting his features.

"There was no way we could have known," Albus defended.

"No way?" Mad-Eye repeated, incredulous. "What about our _precious_ Seer? Shouldn't she have known?" He questioned, spitefully.

"Alastor has a point," Kingsley commented, a concerned expression on his face. "We've been strongly relying on the Pheonix Lady."

"She let us down," Benjy Fenwick added.

"You seem to be mistaking a Seer as being omniscient," Guillaume commented, dryly.

Caradoc Dearborn, a recent addition to the Order decided to speak up. "Not at all, Guillaume. We're simply pointing out that she has been essential in our fight against _him_ and she can't start letting us down now. We need her Sight."

"Do any of you actually know how Seeing works? It's not 'on demand' as you seem to be suggesting. The Pheonix Lady can't just See whenever she wants," Aberforth stated, gruffly.

"She has saved hundreds of lives already. We can hardly fault her for not knowing about _his_ plans for Wilhelm," Mark argued in defence of his saviour.

"She has helped us save nameless muggles. She has informed us about countless witches and wizards. But Wilhelm, a man who could become a key player in this war against Voldemort, she knows nothing?" Moody scoffed. "Where is the sense in that?"

"Are you suggesting that some are more worthy of being saved than others?" Guillaume asked, coldly.

"No, merely pointing out that some people are more useful. Wilhelm was working with the muggle Prime Minister for our Ministry."

"We're all aware that he was trying to better the Ministry's relationship with the Prime Minister, however, that doesn't mean he had any more reason to be saved than anyone else," Albus said, firmly.

"Wilhelm isn't even dead. Not even injured," Diggle interjected.

"The Pheonix Lady is saving as many lives as she can, we can hardly fault her for not knowing about this dark wizard's every move," Arabella Figg said, sagely from her place in the corner where she was currently knitting an extremely long scarf.

Deciding it was time to intervene and focus the discussion on a more pressing matter than why the Pheonix Lady didn't know about Wilhelm's attack beforehand. "Ladies and gentlemen," he spoke loudly, silencing the room immediately with his powerful voice. "The fact that the Pheonix Lady knew not about Wilhelm's attack is not the issue I called you here for."

Sitting down once everyone was calm he lowered his voice back to a reasonable level and placed his hands on the table. "We are here to discuss how _Voldemort_ knew."

"It's obvious, isn't it? Rumors say he's a legilimens," Ephilias Doge muttered.

"I say he has a spy in the Ministry," Moody snapped, glaring at everyone present as if the spy was within this very circle.

"The Head Auror and I also came to that possibility," Kingsley added, worried.

"Shafiq is daft. He won't be willing to accept that chance until it's absolutely undeniable. Fool I say. Constant vigilance is better," Mad-Eye huffed.

Soon, almost everyone was participating in the conversation with Albus just sitting back and waiting patiently. It went on for hours the three at the head of the table sitting quietly, listening to what everyone had to say. From time to time Aberforth or Guillaume would lean in towards Albus and murmur something to him, with Albus replying just as quietly or simply nodding in acknowledgment. Gradually the loud conversations started to wane and all eyes started turning towards the trio. As almost absolute silence reigned, Aberforth and Guillaume were both whispering their final opinions about what they had heard to Dumbledore, suggesting he reject all the ideas that had been shared concerning using the Pheonix Lady. Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully as all the others present waited for their private discussion to end.

"Remember what we agreed about her. One more year, at least," Guillaume reminded, carefully.

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed, facing Aberforth. "I would never put her at risk. You should know that I respect all your wishes for her safety," he stated, glancing at Guillaume.

Satisfied the two men rested back into their seats and waited for Albus to announce his final decision. "Arabella, I want you to approach the muggle Prime Minister in Wilhelm's stead, with your position within the muggle Ministry it should be relatively easy. Do you agree?"

Miss Figg, who's scarf was now covering all the floor around her feet nodded happily. "Thank you, Arabella. Kingsley and Alastor, I would like you to try to convince Shafiq that there is an insider in the Ministry. In fact, there is more than likely more than one."

The two men nodded. "Mark, I'd like you to talk to Wilhelm. Try to get him to tell you what was done to him. He was traumatized by something, but Healers, as you know, found no traces of injury, not even magically healed ones. No torture or mind control traces were found. No obliviate. Nothing to suggest his mind was tampered with," Albus shook his head in frustration. "We might have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that Voldemort has found a new form of torture that leaves no magical trace."

"I will do my best," Longbottom acquiesced.

"We will leave the Pheonix Lady alone. She has already informed me of future events and you all know your roles in those, should they take place. If anything new comes up, I'll contact you. For now, she is of no further use to us.

"So... As for the rest of you. Keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground. We want to be as prepared as possible for an attack."

Everyone accepted his decisions and nodded, some getting up to leave immediately, in the hopes of getting a few hours of sleep before going to work in the morning and others dallying and chatting with friends or family members.

 **A/N: And there it was. End of year 4 and the summer holidays. Next chapter: Start of year five. There's going to be a lot of relationships changing, mostly growing stronger, but some growing weaker. However, I will be trying to go into more detail about some of them. Hope you enjoyed this one.**

 **Please tell me what you thought! I loved your previous reviews and I'm soo glad so many of you are enjoying this story!**

 **Sorry for typos and all that! Point them out if they're really big and bothersome! As well as if you spot inconsistencies. I try my best and re-read my story to make sure I haven't mixed stuff up but it seems unavoidable. I'm really easily distracted.**


	27. Chapter 27: Wedding proposals

**A/N: Just so you know: Adelaide is a character who is going to impact my story quite a bit, so I'm going to write about her past so you guys can get a feel of her, understand why she is the way she is, what her special talent is. (BTW I'm unsure about if her talent is 'real' in the actual Harry Potter universe... There are similar things in the real stories, but it often includes possession and Adelaide in no way possesses people. Anyway, you'll gradually see.)**

 **A bit of French dialogue, translations at the end. And the italic passage at the end is in the past.**

 **Disclaimer: You know who owns what, be it JK Rowling or the Harry Potter fandom.**

The start of year five feast was just like any other and Hermione fought to keep her eyes open as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She yawned, moving her fingers so that they hid her open mouth from view. Finally, the sorting and start of the year speech were over and food appeared. Hermione quickly snatched some food and swallowed it with no time to spare. Leaning her head on Adrian's shoulder she closed her eyes and groaned when his shoulders shook with laughter.

"Should have gone to sleep earlier, Hermione," Adrian recommended.

"I was busy. I had a lot to do with my brother," Hermione reminded him, her voice muffled by his shoulder. Her whole body tensed up with another yawn and Hermione moaned. "I think I'll just head up to bed right now. Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Nodding, Adrian wished her a good night and went on to chat with Pandora and Rachel, another of Hermione's roommates. The brunette witch dragged her feet behind her as she left the great hall and her mind went fuzzy, focusing solely on the need to reach her bed. She didn't even notice the Slytherins following her out of the Great Hall.

"Miss Delacour," a smooth voice called out.

"Lucius," Hermione breathed out, too tired to try and evade him. "How many times must I tell you to call me Hermione. This Miss business is far too formal for me."

"I apologize, Hermione, I'll truly try to do so from now on," he assured. "Regulus and I were just wondering if you would like some company as you head back to your dorm?"

"Regulus?" She questioned, confused until she noticed the black-haired boy standing beside the tall blond. "Regulus! What a pleasure to see you! I couldn't find you on the train," she exclaimed, hugging the boy enthusiastically, not feeling in the slightest offended by his stiff posture. No matter how friendly they got, he still was uncomfortable with physical affection.

"Hermione," he acknowledged.

The young witch felt a twinge of worry when she noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Looking him over she noticed that this was the only sign of something being wrong since the rest of him was perfectly put together. "How were your holidays?" She wondered, remembering his letters being extremely vague.

"Long," he admitted, his voice tired.

Though it was discrete, Hermione noticed Lucius nudge Regulus and send him a meaningful glance. "My brother was only present for a week," he shrugged. "I got bored."

This seemed to assuage Lucius, whose tense shoulders relaxed. Hermione observed the duo as Lucius looked away from his friend, the slight crease between his brow conveying... concern? Hermione was unsure. Hermione didn't know if Lucius could feel concern. It was at this moment that Lucius returned his attention to Hermione.

"I think I'll just head down to the Slytherin common room," Regulus said, rubbing his neck. "I'll see you in the library, as usual, Hermione," he added, sending her a tight smile.

It was as he walked away that Lucius returned his full attention to Hermione.

"And yourself, Hermione? How were your holidays?"

"Very pleasant," she replied. "I visited with my family and friends."

"As did I," Lucius commented. "I also met with many potential partners."

"That's right," Hermione said as if she had only suddenly recalled. "You're graduating at the end of the year, aren't you?" She asked though she didn't need any confirmation, she had in fact been counting down the days.

The past year had been somewhat disturbing with him popping up at her side at any moment trying to be _friendly._ To be honest, it was creepy. And definitely not normal. Recalling her brief meeting with Tom and him, she suspected that, for some reason, Lucius had been asked to keep an eye on her. That thought was very unnerving, especially since she had no idea why Voldemort would be interested in her. Perhaps he had sensed the power she possessed? He had always had a knack for such things, she knew. If that was the case, she had reason to worry.

"Tell me, Lucius," Hermione started, trying to distract her thoughts. "Have you proposed to Narcissa yet?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows at her random question. "Not yet. I was planning on waiting for her graduation next year."

Hermione scrunched up her nose. "Why wait? Rather pointless, isn't it? You're already betrothed, aren't you?"

Lucius sighed. "Unofficially? Yes. However, I would like her to be of legal age when I ask for her hand in marriage officially. In fact, I would like to bring her to Chamarande in France. Our families went there together once when we were younger. We stayed in the large domain and I remember her loving the castle we rented for the week. It was close to a small lake that Merlin was rumored to be fond of and every morning I watched as she left to walk around it, lost in her thoughts. I think she'd love to go back."

"You've put a lot of thought into that, haven't you?" Hermione said, amazed.

"Of course," Lucius sighed. "Though we don't really have a choice in the matter, I want her to say yes with a smile," he admitted, wistfully.

Hermione's heart felt heavy at the thought. Lucius appeared to care deeply for his intended, that, Hermione could not deny. She wondered if he realized how his features had softened when he talked about proposing to Narcissa, how his breath left his lungs and how the arm entwined with her own twitched as if in anticipation. For his part, Lucius was desperately trying to convince himself that what he was revealing to her was all a trick. A ruse to convince her to lower her defenses just as he was pretending to do. To see him as a possible confidant. To trust him. _What reason would she have to be wary of a boy in love?_ He asked himself, hopelessly trying to justify why he was telling her such private thoughts.

He only had one year left, after all. He was running out of time and so much was at risk.

* * *

Guillaume was a sweet man. When he cared for someone, he cared with his whole heart. When he fell in love, he fell hard. If he could, he avoided physical confrontation, always believing there was a better way to solve the issue at hand. He wasn't a pacifist, simply he preferred using magic to create things of beauty, not curse people. He had always hated Duelling and Defence class at Beauxbatons Academy. He much preferred Charms or Transfiguration. That wasn't to say that he had no skills in curses and hexes, not at all. He was very talented in those fields, but he would rather not resort to such things. If pushed, however, he _would_ push back.

That evening, as he strolled the gardens with the beautiful and kind-hearted witch on his arm, he was very glad she was not one to be impressed with shows of strength but instead, was amazed by the sparkling dark blue rose he transfigured from a branch. Grinning sheepishly he held it out to her and refused to tear his gaze away when Apolline De Chaillé stared at the flower in awe.

"I 'ave never seen such a beautiful flower before. Thank you, Guillaume," she murmured, meeting the man's gaze as he smiled down at her, his face alight with love.

Shifting on the spot, Guillaume hesitated before speaking. "Apolline, from the first moment I saw you, I knew I would fall in love with you if given the chance. And I have. You are one of the people whom I care about the most in this world. Trust that I love you with all my heart. I'm sorry that sometimes I have had to put my sister first, before you. I know that because of this your mother believes you deserve better. You deserve someone that will always be there for you and, unfortunately, I am not always the man you need me to be-"

He was cut off when Apolline placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Guillaume..." She trailed off, staring deeply into his eyes. "I love the way you are with your sister. It leads me to believe you will be a most wonderful father and caring husband to whomever you choose to unite with for the rest of your life. Never have you made me feel second to your sister. I understand the responsibility you took when you adopted her as your own and I must admit that, when you told me the truth about your relationship and connection with her, I fell in love with you even more. You are a beautiful man, with a beautiful heart. And nothing could make me love you more."

Guillaume smiled, overjoyed by her words. "Did you know that the first time I asked you to dance a few years ago, my sister was the one who gave me the confidence to do so? If not for her, who knows how long it would have taken me to gather the courage to invite you out?"

"I'm glad she was there," Apolline declared, her tone genuine.

The wizard suddenly stopped walking and took her hands in his, his face determined. "Apolline. _Mon amour, ma vie, mon coeur,_ I never thought I would fall in love so young, never did I plan on settling down so soon. But I love you and cannot bear the thought of you being with another," he paused, fumbling as he pulled out a ring he had selected in his family vault with the help of his sister and his cousin, Clarice.

Apolline's eyes widened as she saw the ring and gasped. Without waiting for him to say anything, Apolline beamed at him. " _Oui!_ "

"I haven't even asked yet," Guillaume chuckled.

"It doesn't matter. _Ma réponse sera toujours oui,_ " she murmured, leaning towards him and brushing her lips against him. _"Je t'aime. Pour toujours, à jamias."_

Grinning, Guillaume slipped the ring on her finger and held her hand as he continued to stare at it, almost unbelieving that this woman, who had men chasing her everywhere she went, said yes to him. Him, who had feared the responsibility of taking in the unusual, scarred and frightened young girl. A huge decision that had quickly become the best one in his life. Now, as he held this wonderful witch in his arms, one that he truly loved with all his heart, he couldn't help but feel an overflowing happiness at the fact that he would finally be able to give Hermione a real family.

* * *

"Healer Longbottom!" The mediwitch exclaimed in surprise as she exited one of the many rooms at St Mungo's, narrowly avoiding crashing into him.

"Mrs. Vern," Marc greeted, politely.

"I wasn't aware that you had a patient on this floor," she observed.

"Healer Burkster was unable to come in today and asked me to fill in for him," he told her.

"Oh, of course," she smiled, conspiratorily at Marc. "It's a big day for him! I hope all goes well."

"I'm sure it will," Marc commented. "He is one of the most talented Healers I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Too true," she agreed, glancing down at her clipboard. "I'll leave you to it then! Be careful with this one, he's incredibly jumpy," she recommended as she strolled away.

Marc carefully entered the hospital room so as to not frighten the man inside. Making sure to silence to room Marc took a seat by Wilhelm's bedside keeping his gaze locked on Wilhelm's wary one. Placing his hands in full view, to show he meant no harm, Marc leaned forwards in his seat and relaxed his whole body.

"Hello, Wilhelm," he greeted.

"Marc," Wilhelm returned.

"How are you today?"

"I've been better," Wilhelm huffed. "Being here doesn't help."

"You understand why you're here, though, don't you?"

"I've been hallucinating about my past," Worthy sighed, knowing there was no point denying it.

"And you're at risk of injuring yourself and others while in the thrall of it. You ripped apart three cats the first time," Marc spoke, softly. Though the Aurors had determined that he was not the one to harm the cats, Marc was hoping to get a reaction from the man by blaming him. He was not disappointed.

"That wasn't me," Wilhelm denied, shaking his head. " _They_ did it. Real blood made it worse," he admitted. "So much worse."

"What was worse?"

"The memories," Wilhelm moaned, his breathing coming in faster. "All the memories."

"What do you mean? The memories of what they did to you?"

The young man started shaking his head frantically. "No, no, no, no! You don't understand! It was torture! But it wasn't real! I don't want to remember, please!" He begged.

"You're safe, Wilhelm, don't worry," Longbottom said, soothingly.

"I'm never safe. I'm stuck in the memories. I can't escape!" Wilhelm exclaimed, his whole body trembling. "It's worse. The memories I want to forget, please!"

Frantically, Wilhelm started fighting against his covers, as if trying to escape the bed. Soon he was sobbing uncontrollably and Marc had no choice but to spell him to sleep. Sighing, Marc flopped back into his seat and rubbed his temples tiredly. _What did that mean?_ He could barely understand it. All he could conclude was that it did sound like whatever he had gone through was some form of mental torture. The Order had already suspected as much, though, so this was nothing new.

* * *

"She's not going to say yes anytime soon, so just leave her alone, James. You'll just push her away if you ask her now," Hermione tried to make him understand as the boy trailed her in the halls.

 _I need to get away from him_ , Hermione thought to herself as she increased her pace, hoping to lose him when she turned a corner.

"But if she'd just agree to go on a date with me, it would be the perfect opportunity for me to apologize for my past behavior!" James argued.

"It's hardly _past_ if you're still being a prat," she muttered.

"I am not!"

Hermione huffed. "James, please," she replied, turning suddenly down a random hallway.

The wizard skidded on the floor and slipped, scrabbling to keep up with her. _Give up already,_ Hermione snapped in her mind. She had been on her way to the Room of Requirement to complete her daily meditation when he had ambushed her, trying to recruit her into one of his many ploys that involved Lily Evans.

"She's your friend, she'd listen to you if you encouraged her to give me a chance," he pleaded.

"The fact that she's my friend is precisely why I won't encourage her to do that! Maybe one day, when you finally _grow up_ I'll tell her to give it a go, but right now, you are the last person she needs in her life. You bully her best friend for Merlin's sake!"

"Snivellus deserves it," James complained, childishly.

"Don't even start," Hermione warned, once again picking up speed as she noticed that they were reaching the moving staircases.

"I really like her, 'Mione!" James proclaimed.

"Then show it!" She called back as she stared intensely at the stairs, praying, begging them to change.

And, finally, when she was five feet away, she heard the telltale noise that gave away the fact that they were about to switch. Quickly, she jogged and managed to jump onto the stairs just as they moved, leaving James staring after her.

"And don't call me 'Mione!" She hollered, waving at him with a teasing grin.

As if the stairs knew exactly where she wanted to go, they stopped on the seventh floor just long enough to let Hermione off. If she had paid closer attention she would have realized that every single staircase had decided to move at the very same moment, an incredibly rare occurrence that happened at the most once every five years and which always caused a terrible disorder. This time was no exception and left many students wondering how in the world they were going to reach their lessons in time.

* * *

 _The dark room was void of any furniture. There was no bulb, no torch, no fireplace and no window, nothing to provide light in any way. The wooden door opened, allowing dim light from the hallway to pour inside, illuminating a small figure that was kneeling in the perfect center of the room. The girl was sitting on her heels, her knees digging into the small square patch of carpet, the only thing separating her scrawny knees from the hard cold marble floor. Her waist long auburn hair was left undone, falling to the floor as she kept her head bowed. Her hands were joined on her lap and she remained still, giving no sign that she had noticed the door open. Her shoulders, softly rising and falling with her breathing were the only indication that she was not a statue._

 _"Adelaide," a gentle voice spoke from the doorway._

 _Still, the young child, no older than five years of age, remained unmoving. The man in the doorway released a breath and stepped forward._

 _"Adelaide, my child," the tall, intimidating man spoke, still with the same soft voice. "Look at me."_

 _Not needing to be told twice, the thin girl met her father's gaze. "Papa," she acknowledged as was required._

 _The man was dressed all in black, his shoes were made of polished dragon hide and his vicuna and silk cloak lined with sable fur was ostentatious. Everything on his person serving to strategically announce his status in the world as opposed to his daughter who wore a dull and very modest cotton brown dress._

 _"Have you learned your lesson, my dear?" He questioned, smiling down at her tenderly._

 _"Yes, Papa," she nodded as if to convince herself more than him._

 _"We shall try again, then," he murmured. "Bixy!" He snapped._

 _There was a loud pop. The house elf bowed deeply. "Master summoned Bixy?" He squeaked._

 _"Papa," Adelaide whimpered, staring at the old house elf that was practically raising her, coming to her rooms in the dead of the night to calm her crying fits, while her parents slept in another wing, uncaring of their daughter's cries. Adelaide could remember the days when Bixy would sneak into her chamber during the long days when she was left alone, her parents away, and how he would give her small carved dragons and unicorns that Bixy had proudly announced he had made himself. That never happened anymore, as her father was too busy training her to leave her alone with nothing to do during the day._

 _"It is time, darling," he encouraged, rubbing the top of her head._

 _Adelaide shook her head, ready to refuse his order and accept the punishment that was sure to come. Knowing how angry he was going to be, Adelaide took a deep breath, trying to calm herself._

 _"Make me proud."_

 _Tears pooled in her eyes as she was just about to defy him but she froze at those words. Proud? That was all she had ever wanted._

 _"This creature is nothing. Make your father proud," he urged, noticing the light in her gaze. "If you do that, Papa will treat you," he bribed. "Papa will let you go play in the garden."_

 _Eyes wide, Adelaide glanced at Bixy, who was trembling in fear but who also seemed resigned to his fate as if he knew there was no other outcome to consider._

 _"Will you please me, my darling?"_

 _Lifting herself to rest her whole weight on her knees, she nodded. "Yes, Papa."_

 _Obediently, Bixy placed himself in front of his young Mistress and closed his eyes in submission. Holding in her frightened tears, Adelaide raised her trembling hands._

 _"I'm sorry," she breathed, so low that even her father didn't hear._

 _The elf groaned as his body arched. His suffering only bearable because she was inexperienced and frightened. Soon, Adelaide dropped her hands, sobbing as she felt too weak to continue. She watched the elf fall to the floor and lie still. Kicking the_ elf _to the side, her father reached his hand out to his daughter and stroked the back of hers with his thumb._

 _"You have a marvelous gift, my child," he informed her. "Absolutely breathtaking."_

 _Adelaide did not respond, her mind still flashing with horrifying and painful images. "My daughter, you have pleased me tonight. And you will please Him as well when the time comes."_

 **A/N: Translations:** _ **Mon amour, ma vie, mon coeur. -**_ **My love, my life, my heart.**

 ** _Oui! -_ Yes!**

 ** _Ma réponse sera toujours oui_. _Je t'aime. Pour toujours, à jamias. -_ My answer will always be yes. I love you. Forever and ever.**

 **Voilà! I hope you enjoyed this start of the year five! It's going to be a busy one! Well, her last three years at Hogwarts are going to be busy, actually! And as you've all said: the plot is indeed thickening! Alala! I have so much planned. Insert *Evil laugh*.**


	28. Chapter 28: Animagi

**A/N: Here we are a new chapter that I hope you enjoy. Everything is relevant. Nothing is random. Or not completely.**

 **Anyway, I would greatly appreciate any feedback you have, positive or negative. I'm having a hard time actually being really pleased by my chapters as of late, which is disappointing.**

 **On another note: I love all your reviews, you guys are amazing! I have some pretty amazing reviewers for this story!** Marie0907, lrmorena, paulaa90, leileenl, Hollowg1rl **and** MadMadameA **to name a few. You guys are always so enthusiastic and I'm so glad to read everything you think about Adelaide! I'm glad you enjoy her as much as me! And I love that you share your ideas and thoughts about the story, and it really amuses me because sometimes you guys are so close to the mark it's incredible (who's writing this story? You or me?). Not just you really, but all reviewers.**

 **Thank you for all the follows and favorites and reviews!**

 **Disclaimer: You know who owns what.**

Hermione twirled her wand distractedly as she flipped through the pages of the thick book. She sighed as her research led to nothing and leaned back in her seat, eyeing the wand in her hand. Acacia, phoenix feather, unyielding. That was what Ollivander had said. Old. Picky. Unpredictable. Powerful. _Loyal._

To be honest, she had never found the wand particularly loyal, nor difficult to work with. But neither had she felt like she controlled it completely. It sometimes felt as if it had a mind of its own, not needing her to even utter a spell before performing the enchantment she required. Still, it sometimes felt like something was missing and she wondered if Ollivander had perhaps made a mistake by giving it to her.

Hermione shook her head and placed her wand on the desk beside the open book. Resting her forearms on the table, she refocused her attention on the words in the book. Merlin. Apprentices'. Hecate. Morgan. Never in one place for long. Great Britain. France. Greece. Nepal. No family. Nothing concrete. All speculation. Many divided opinions about his relations with his apprentices'. Which one did he love? Neither? Which one did he kill? Both? Which one stayed with him longest? Hecate? Which one watched him die? Morgan? This book supposedly recorded every single theory or possibility that had ever been speculated with the use of weak or strong proof. So many possibilities, so many places for Hermione to start her search. Scanning the pages Hermione's gaze caught one interesting suggestion. Stretching the muscles in her face, Hermione drummed her fingers against the tome and slid her gaze over to her wand thoughtfully.

Finally, she shrugged, stood and scooped up her wand, waving it carelessly in order to send the book back to its designated spot in the Hogwarts library. Strolling out of the room, Hermione slid the wand back into its holster and roughly adjusted her cloak. _I_ _f I'm going to start my search, why not start in my back yard,_ she thought disinterestedly, not putting much stock into the idea, knowing it would likely be a dead end but decided she had nothing to loose.

She arrived at her destination and paused to take in the sight of the gigantic megaliths that stood in a circle, almost a mirror replica of the ones in England. Trying to place herself as close to the center as she could, Hermione flopped down, legs crossed and twisted her neck slowly this way and that, studying the impressive structures. Though the existence of magic took away some of the novelty of enormous rocks sticking vertically out of the ground, Hermione couldn't help but still feel somewhat awed by the sight. The wet wind caused her dark curls to slither across her face, dancing like liquid in the air around her face. The gray clouds were threatening and so, few students were out to see her sitting on the muddy ground. Not that Hermione really cared either way. She would have done this even if the grounds were crawling with students on a sunny day.

Hermione sat there for an hour, waiting for something, anything. Nothing happened. Hermione let her body fall backward limply, ignoring the squelch of the mud, and stared up at the dark clouds that were sure signs of impending rain. She lay there for a moment, not wanting to move, worried that Murphy's Law would take control as soon as she decided to finally leave.

Shivering in the cold wind, Hermione sat up slowly, choosing to stay ten more minutes, get her meditation out of the way so that this trip out onto the grounds would not be useless, and then go back inside. In one smooth movement, Hermione slipped her hands to the moist earth beneath her and curled her hands around wet dirt and grass, digging in her fingers while shutting her eyes. She relaxed her entire body and took a deep breath, releasing it after only a moment. Once she felt perfectly at ease, Hermione concentrated on her magic and ever so delicately tugged on it.

The witch was unsurprised when it resisted, struggling to free itself from the strong hold the five other Magical Cores had on her own Core. When Hermione determined that she finally had a firm grip on her own Magic, she slid over it, finding the area where the magics tangled together. Over the course of the past months, the six Cores had steadily become more and more knotted together, leaving Hermione with the impression that she now controlled only a small fraction of her magic. It had reached such a point that she now felt worried as to what would happen when the six Cores were entirely entwined: would she loose all ability to use her magic? Would she become a sort of Squib, simply serving as a container for all this power, forever unable to wield it? Or, would the Cores fuse together and become one once they interlaced completely like Aberforth suspected?

This unknown worried Hermione. How could she be of any use if she lost all her magical capabilities? Pushing away her anxiety, Hermione continued playing with the strands of magic, trying to tease them into her grasp. The Time-traveller succeeded in pulling forth Merlin's Core but to her complete irritation, it retreated as soon as she attempted to cast a simple spell with it. Despite all this time, it still escaped her. Hermione couldn't help but feel frustrated, feeling as if she was trying in vain to get a timid child on stage in front of a large crowd. Knowing her time was up, she opened her eyes as a few cold drops of rain splattered on her face, dragging her back into the real world and met the blank gaze of Lucius Malfoy.

He had been walking the grounds with Narcissa when they had sensed the rain coming and had decided to hurry back to the castle. It was then that Lucius had noticed Hermione sitting on the soggy ground, in what had been named Melin's Circle. He met her gaze straight on, revealing nothing of his confusion or curiosity about what she was doing there and he continued on his way with the witch on his arm.

* * *

"Isn't that a bit of an advanced magic, Hermione?" Regulus questioned, reading over her shoulder as she researched Animagus transformations.

"Perhaps, but it's never too soon to learn new things, even if just in theory," she shrugged.

"And that's what you're doing? Just learning the theory?" He asked, doubtfully.

"Yes," she answered, truthfully.

With the range of her control on her Magic diminishing as time went on, Hermione did not feel in the slightest bit comfortable with the idea of attempting to become an Animagus.

"Aren't you tempted?" He wondered, not needing to specify.

"Without a doubt, but I'm pretty sure I don't have the right amount of control at the moment," Hermione admitted, then after a pause glanced slyly at Regulus. "Do you want to?"

"More than anything," Regulus revealed. "But I'm still too young," he stated, mournfully.

Hermione scoffed. "No one's ever too _young_ to learn magic, it's only a question of control. And you have the necessary control, Regulus."

"You really think so?" He enquired, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Oh yes! And I'd be more than happy to keep you company if you do choose to learn! I'd guide you or just be there for you."

His gaze stayed glued to the descriptions Hermione had been reading, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. "What would you get out of this? What would you want in exchange?" He demanded, unable to hold back his suspicious nature.

"I'm a Ravenclaw, Regulus, watching you learn would be very educational and I'd ask for nothing more," she told him, knowing he wasn't really doubting her. "Besides, I already meditate every day - anger management," she mentioned as an explanation. "So we could do that together. Plus you'll need someone in on what you're doing during the mandrake step and we can brew the potion together. Two minds and eyes in this situation would be much better than one."

Regulus considered her offer for a brief moment before nodding. "I'll do it," he announced.

Hermione beamed at him and the two settled down more comfortably at the desk, discussing how they were going to go about organizing themselves.

* * *

A few weeks later, Hermione was strolling through the aisles of the Library, holding an open book on Animagi in her hands and sucking on a lemon drop Albus had given her earlier that day. Reaching the last page Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead tiredly. Regulus had been advancing at an incredibly fast speed but still felt uncertain about moving forward in the proceedings. Though Hermione knew it could take months before one actually even moved on to the mandrake stage, she could tell that her reassurances meant little to Regulus as he continued to feel frustrated by the lack of development. She hoped that she could find some form of research on Animagi that would set his mind at ease. That he would _know_ when he was ready to start. Shaking her head Hermione looked around the Library and noticed the three Marauders sitting in a corner. _Odd,_ she thought, _James, Sirius and Peter in the Library without Remus. A rare occurrence._ Raking her mind for a possible reason, Hermione caught a glimpse of the title of the book they were surrounding and felt like hitting herself for how thick she was proving to be.

Hermione knew that this was the year the Marauders became Animagus, that was the whole reason why she had been reading a book about them just a few weeks ago. How could she have forgotten? _Nevermind_ , she berated herself, _they won't be getting anywhere if I keep this book._ She thought, knowing it was the most detailed book on Animagi in the Hogwarts Library and that though she may want to change many things, she didn't want to change this. They needed to become Animagi, it was essential. Contemplating the different ways she could go about this, Hermione decided she couldn't be bothered to be sneaky and strolled towards the three boys determinedly.

"I believe this book would be of much greater use to you," she declared, placing the book on top of the one they were flipping through.

Quickly glancing at the cover, the boys immediately tried to deny what she already knew. "What are you talking about?" James asked.

"We don't need that," Peter tried to convince her.

"What is that, anyway?" Sirius questioned, indifferently.

"The best book on Animagi in the Hogwarts Library," she shrugged. "I borrowed it for a bit of light reading but I've finished it. You're going to need this if you plan on doing what I think you're going to do," Hermione said, sounding like she was merely commenting on the weather and not giving them advice for something illegal.

The boys eyed her skeptically. "You realize that what we're planning on doing is against the rules, right?" James checked.

"Yeah, I've done worse," she waved away his concern. "Just make sure you're not caught or you'll get not just _expelled_ but _arrested."_

The boys stared at her, their mouths agape. _"Hermione?"_ Sirius asked, wanting to make sure that this wasn't someone masquerading as the Ravenclaw witch.

Hermione huffed, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Don't sound so surprised," she muttered, sounding offended. "I'm not a stickler for rules, you'd think you'd know that since you're the ones who appointed me the unpaid position of Prank Advisor," she claimed, disbelieving. "Either way, I'll keep Remus busy when you need to work on it, you can count on me."

With this, she turned away from them and was just about to walk out when the werewolf she had just mentioned entered the Library. "Good luck," she murmured softly before waving Remus over. "Remus! Just the Gryffindor I wanted to see! Come with me!" Hermione exclaimed, linking their arms together and forcing him out of the Library throwing a cheeky grin at the surprised boys and leaving Remus with no choice but to follow her.

* * *

"This is pointless, Hermione! I'll never become an Animagus! We should just stop now, no point wasting our time," Regulus exclaimed, kicking at some rubble.

"I've told you before, Regulus: it can take months before you can move on to the next stage," Hermione said, calmly.

"But I don't have months!" Regulus yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration.

Frowning, Hermione pursed her lips and moved to sit beside her friend. "This isn't just about becoming an Animagus, is it?" She asked, knowingly.

Regulus laughed darkly. "Of course it is."

Hermione placed a comforting hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Don't lie to me Regulus. It's never worked before and it's not about to work now."

"I don't know what you've convinced yourself is wrong but you're wrong. My annoyance is only because of my inability to become an Animagus," he snapped.

"You're perfectly capable. You've been advancing at an incredible speed," she stated, softly. "Regulus," she said his name on a breath, the sound almost begging.

There was a silence. "There was a man at my house this summer," he whispered, obviously reluctant to tell her but needing to get it off his chest.

"A man?" Hermione repeated, shifting closer to the boy. "Who was this man?" Silence again. "Regulus. Who was he?" She asked, forcefully despite knowing the answer.

"My mother called him the Dark Lord, the one causing all those attacks. You've heard of him," he said, accepting the fact that she already knew. She always did after all.

"Everyone has," she agreed.

"Well, he stopped by quite a few times after my _brother_ left for the Potter's," Regulus spat, venomously.

"I don't understand," Hermione grimaced, recalling everything Sirius had told her in her original future.

"He came to my house. Mostly to talk to my parents. And me, once," he informed her.

"What did he want?"

"He wouldn't say. Just talked about how much he could teach me. How powerful I could become. It was all rather... _unpleasant."_

Hermione felt her shoulders drop and she fell back against the wall, her thoughts jumbled. "Well," she mumbled with an abnormally high-pitched voice. "This is different."

"What?" Regulus demanded, turning to take a look at the girl's face and was surprised to see that she looked completely shocked. "You didn't know?"

Hermione jumped. "How could I have known about this?"

Regulus shrugged. "You know about everything else."

 _"What?"_ The witch squeaked.

"I'm not my brother, Hermione. I'm not oblivious. You're always so careful when you first start talking to someone. You're guarded. But as soon as you get comfortable, everything just starts flowing out of you."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" The brunette exclaimed.

"Fine. It doesn't _flow,_ but it slips."

"Oh Salazar," Hermione sighed, slapping a hand to her forehead.

"Don't worry," he reassured. "I haven't figured out how you do it yet. And unless you decide to tell me, I won't trick it out of you."

"You're not curious?"

"Sure, but I'm also a Slytherin and we understand the need for secrets. We don't trust easily. Doesn't mean I won't find out by myself."

"Regulus, can I ask you something and no matter what you answer I will not judge you, as long as you're honest?"

"I suppose, though I might not answer."

"What did you think of him?"

Regulus paused, thinking over her question and recalling the tall, impeccably dressed wizard that had promised Regulus everything he had ever wanted.

"He was impressive and powerful," he admitted, his voice slightly awed and Hermione shut her eyes in resignation. _Not so different, then,_ she thought. "But he was also very _dark_ ," Regulus murmured, his tone now tinted with the smallest hint of fear.

Suddenly, Regulus' whole body tensed and his face transformed back into its usual cold mask as he realized how open he had just been. "I've got to go."

Hermione watched him leave, her eyes wide in shock. "This is not how things happened last time."

His disillusionment with the Dark Lord was supposed to happen so much later. What was the Dark Lord doing that already had Regulus so wary?

* * *

"It's a temporary fetish of mine," Sirius shrugged, taking a bite of pie and flicking his fork at his best friend who was sitting across from him.

"It's disgusting," James declared.

Sirius snorted. "You shouldn't judge," he snapped, glancing to his left.

"That was one time!" James proclaimed, eyes wide.

"Once is enough, mate," Sirius stated, seriously.

"Have you ever done it, though?" James asked, his face contorted into a reluctantly curious expression.

"Well-"

"I don't think I want to hear this," Peter claimed, moving away from the pair and sitting down next to Dorcas, who smiled and welcomed him into her discussion with her friends.

"I can't say I have. Yet," Sirius smirked, winking at his best mate who grimaced in horror.

"It's really, horribly disturbing, mate."

"I know things about you," Sirius threatened.

"And if you mention them, I'll strangle you. So?"

Sirius sighed, turning towards Remus. "Remus, am I right? Or am I right?"

Remus opened his mouth, looking as if he was chewing air for a moment while he looked at his two friends, his eyelids drooping. "I am not a part of this conversation but I can say with utmost certainty that you're wrong."

With that, Remus went back to reading his book. Looking pleased, Sirius crossed his arms. "I told you."

"That doesn't make any sense, he said you were wrong. Remus said you were wrong," James muttered.

"And we all know Remus is always right," Hermione interrupted them as she joined them at the Gryffindor table, clueless as to what the subject of discussion was.

"Aha!" James exclaimed, pointing triumphantly at Sirius.

"But Delacour doesn't know shite so her comment doesn't have any weight in this debate," Sirius spat, glaring at the witch who widened her eyes innocently. "What are you even doing here?"

"Taking offense," she told him mock seriously. "Saving Remus," she added, all traces of humor gone as she grabbed said boy's hand and dragged him out of the Great Hall.

"Well... Well, that's just messed up," James observed, his tone still conveying his horror.

"Tell me about it! He just lets himself be ordered around and manhandled by that witch."

"I was talking about you. There's nothing wrong with Remus liking a commanding witch who knows what she wants," James chuckled.

"You think Remus likes Delacour like that?" Sirius demanded, surprised, his head snapping towards the doors where the pair had disappeared.

James shrugged, going back to his food. "Who knows what they do when they're off alone together. How else is she supposed to distract him for hours on end?" He questioned, indifferently.

Sirius spluttered. "That's just disturbing to even imagine!"

"Nope it's not, Hermione's an attractive bird. Remus isn't a bad looking bloke. They'd go well together."

"Since when did you become a witch?" Sirius mocked.

"Since you turned me off anything remotely male," James shuddered. "You've got a serious problem, mate. Disgusting."

Sirius smirked. "I'm curious, is all."

"Disgusting," James mumbled again, stabbing his food with his knife.

* * *

Hermione finished reading the essay and put it back down on the table with a smile. "This is very good, Peter," she told him, trying to keep her smile genuine.

"Really?" He squeaked, surprised by her praise.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Thanks for your help, Hermione," he said, gratefully.

"You did most of the work," she waved him off. "You're not as stupid as you lead people to believe," she observed. "So why do you do it?"

"Do what?" Peter asked, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Make everyone believe you're a fool. Let James and Sirius order you around as if you were a complete idiot?"

Peter shrugged, tidying up his papers. "They like it. They like being the leaders."

"You don't have to be a buffoon in order for them to be leaders," she informed him. "You can't possibly like it when they treat you like a daft moron."

"They don't treat me like that! They're my friends. They accepted me. I know what everyone thinks: why did James, Sirius, and Remus befriend me? Look at me, they didn't have to, but they did."

"So because they befriended you, you feel the need to let them boss you around?"

Peter hesitated, his eyes scanning his paper. "If I'm not useful, they won't want me around anymore."

"They're your friends. They want you around because of that, not because you follow their orders."

"Have you seen them? They're good at everything. I'm only good at this," Peter muttered, gesturing to his charms assignment. "I have to do whatever I can to stay in their group."

"If Sirius ordered you to run around naked in the halls of Hogwarts, you'd do it just because he said so?"

"Yeah and 'cause it would be funny," he admitted.

"And if James ordered you to stay a whole night in the Forbidden Forest, you would? Despite the fact that it's crawling with Centaurs, Werewolves, Vampires and other dangerous creatures?"

"Sure."

"All that just to impress them?" He nodded. "What if Sirius ordered you to levitate someone over the cliff?"

"Yeah."

"Even though you would be risking that person's life? One tiny slip of concentration: your spell fails and that person falls to their death, but you'd still do it."

Peter hesitated, not saying anything so Hermione continued. "You'd risk that person's life just so you could impress people you admire?"

"I guess," he said, not sounding certain of his response. "I don't want them to think I'm weak."

Hermione shook her head in disgust, gathering her books. "Your weakness doesn't lie with your fear of being punished or rejected for not following orders," she declared to herself, mostly. "Your weakness lies with wanting to impress people you admire. You should know, Peter, that people wouldn't see you as weak if you refused to follow an order. They'd see you as strong for standing by your morals and ideals. That's when you would truly impress people."

* * *

"Have you any news from your son, Abraxas?" Tom questioned, looking out the window.

"Nothing much. Only that he recently spotted her sitting in Merlin's Circle," Abraxas said, hesitantly.

"Merlin's Circle? The one on Hogwarts' grounds?"

"The very one, Sire," the Malfoy man nodded his head.

"What exactly did he see her doing?" Voldemort asked, his tone conveying only a hint of interest.

"Just sitting in the wind and rain, apparently. She had her eyes closed. He said it looked like she was meditating."

"Meditating?" Riddle checked, turning to face his gathered followers who were all seated at a long table. "In Merlin's Circle?"

Slightly confused, Abraxas nodded slowly as if he was afraid to confirm what he had just said. Everyone at the table froze when Tom Riddle sat down at the table, an excited grin on his face and a terrifying hunger glinting in his eyes, a facial expression unlike any they had ever seen on his face before.

"Fascinating," he murmured, resting his chin against his thumb and curling his other fingers over his mouth, his face now thoughtful. "Abraxas," he called softly, said man snapping to attention. "Tell your son that he will be rewarded for accomplishing the task I set him. However, he must still keep a watchful eye on her throughout the rest of his last year at Hogwarts."

"Of course, my Lord..." Abraxas trailed off, internally debating if he should ask the question on the tip of his tongue.

Tom watched Abraxas with a cold expression. "Ask your question Abraxas," he ordered, not appreciating the way the Malfoy patriarch was staring at him.

"I- I was only wondering, Sire, what it was about what he reported that satisfied you? Th- that is if you don't mind my-"

"Stop your pitiful stuttering, Malfoy, I have little patience for bumbling fools," Tom claimed, indifferently moving to stand by the window again. "I know exactly what our little witch was doing. I myself did it back in our Hogwarts days."

Behind his back, the Death Eaters at the table glanced at each other curiously. "It seems that our witch is not as innocent as she seemed. Gentlemen," he announced, turning smoothly on the spot and taking a moment to look each man in the eye. "We have work to do."

The men all sat up straight, ready to carry out any orders thrown their way.

"But first," Tom murmured, glancing at the auburn haired witch kneeling obediently in the corner. "First Adelaide and I have to visit an old friend of mine."

The men shuddered at the mention of the witch, watching warily as she raised her head and took the hand the Dark Lord held out to her. They had all seen what she could do, some of them had even experienced it first hand and thus they all preferred to stay as far away from her as possible. Abraxas watched the two leave the room and felt a small twinge of unconcerned pity for this old friend of Tom's. Together the duo knew how to bring pain unlike any other.

 **A/N: Sorry for any mistakes. I re-read and re-read but they still sometimes escape me... If there are some really big ones, please don't hesistate to tell me!**


	29. Chapter 29: It's starting

**A/N: Hey guys... I feel like my life on Fanfiction centers around my apologizing to you. I really am sorry. I'll always have excuses as most of you might call them. However, to me they are valid reasons. I just need to say: have you ever entered a period in your life where everything is looking up? And then everything gets screwed up by one crappy unfortunate lifechanging event.**

 **Again, I'm sorry for the wait but I really appreciated the virtual hug one of you sent me, I really needed it!**

 **About the story: Alright, well I received some pretty detailed reviews last chapter. I thank you all for sharing your honest opinions with me and I'm glad that you're still enjoying the story. I will try to take into account every point that was brought up. Sooo the main divided opinion was centering around Adelaide. Here, there should be no worries to either opinion. The details about Adelaide's life are over, I just needed one scene to show why she was the way she was but in my rough draft (pre-planning) the only scenes involving her from now on, will be in the present.**

 **And to the Tom fans out there that reviewed or messaged me: I hope you become satisfied with how things unfold with him. And no, while my Tom is still relatively human at the moment, he still can't love. But he can obsess. I look forward to seeing more of him. As I hope you do too.**

 **Insecurity hitting me ten times stronger than the last chapter: I just hope you're not too disappointed with this chapter, it kinda serves to introduce the main events that are to follow during the Fifth year.**

 **Disclaimer: Come on, is there any need? Well actually, there is a little bit of BBC Merlin inspiration here, you know for Merlin and because I love him.**

"Was Merlin a good wizard?" Hermione questioned, carving designs into the table with a spell and a wave of her wand.

"Oh, _Bon Dieu,_ she's back on track," Guillaume claimed, rolling his eyes skyward in exasperation.

"In theory! I haven't actually gone looking for him!" She argued, omitting to mention her trip to Merlin's Circle. _But was it even worth mentioning?_ She wondered, she had remained on Hogwarts' grounds after all.

"Mydrin was-"

"Myrddin," Hermione corrected automatically, her gaze fixed on the designs she was creating.

"Yes, I know," Aberforth snapped with a stern glare. "Myrddin was neither good nor bad. He just was. Many claim he was the incarnation of Magic itself."

"That's not possible, is it?" Hermione checked.

Aberforth sighed, placing the glass mug he was cleaning on the counter. "Haven't you researched him? Shouldn't you know all this?"

"I've read it all but I want to hear what _you_ know."

"Very well," Aberforth sighed, moving to sit at the same table as the two Delacour sorcerers. "I suppose you know that he was long gone before Hogwarts was ever founded, but the fact that he would have been sorted into Slytherin is universally acknowledged. He spent his life lying to Arthur, with good intentions perhaps but the fact remains that he lied to everyone around him in order to reach his goal: Wizards and Muggles living in harmony. Unfortunately, Arthur died before this vision of a unified world could come into existence."

"If that was his goal in life, surely he couldn't be considered bad?" Guillaume questioned.

"His intentions weren't bad to be sure, but his methods... Well, if all the legends are to be believed his methods sometimes left to be desired. Merlin had complete and utter faith in destiny and so he did _everything_ it took to protect Arthur and Magic."

"So why did Merlin lie to Arthur if he wanted to reveal Magic to Muggles?" Hermione wanted to know.

"For a long time, Arthur hated the very idea of Magic and rejected anything that had to do with it. Many think it wasn't until he pulled Excalibur from the stone that he began to accept Magic. If Arthur had discovered that his confident, Myrddin, had Magic before that moment, Merlin's plans would have failed."

"They failed anyway," Hermione muttered, stabbing her wand into the table and standing up.

"In part yes. Merlin never succeeded in unifying both worlds, but he managed to get Arthur to accept Magic. Rumors say that Arthur and Merlin went on one last quest before Arthur was killed by Mordred, though no one knows _where_ they went. In Gwenivere's salvaged letters to Lancelot she only mentions how both men disappeared for weeks, only returning at the start of winter, neither willing to divulge anything about where they went."

"Yes, I read fragments of those letters..." She paused, thoughtfully. "You believe that this voyage of theirs is important?"

"I'm quite certain that if you somehow discover where the duo went, you'll find Merlin's resting place."

"What about all the locations he's rumored to be buried? The Paimpont Forest? Malborough Mound?"

"Merlin chose to bury himself with what is considered to be the most important and powerful book in the world. He himself stated he would protect it from the world and lock it up in his tomb. Do you honestly think he would let his burial place be common knowledge?" Aberfoth asked, disbelievingly with a shake of his head. "No. Merlin wouldn't be so idiotic. Those well-known locations, perhaps they have clues that will lead you to his actual tomb, but you won't be finding his remains nor his book in any of those places," Aberforth scoffed.

Hermione grimaced. "I can't go today... Nor next Hogsmeade weekend - I have a date - but perhaps-"

"A date? What's this? You have a date?" Guillaume demanded. "With who? What is his name?"

The brunette witch sighed. "The following Hogsmeade weekend? I'll send you both an owl with the dates. Will you come with me?"

"Of course," both wizards agreed.

"Now you both better ge' out of here. Having a young teenager and a pristine French wizard is shaking up the reputation of my pub."

Hermione giggled as Guillaume led her out, wishing Aberforth a good day. "So, Hermione, tell me more about this date," Guillaume ordered.

* * *

Hermione had installed herself on a ledge in one of the many relatively deserted hallways. She had spelled herself and her things so that there was no chance of anything falling over the edge and she enjoyed the soft breeze blowing over her as she worked. Hermione was hunched over her parchment, scribbling down everything she could about Merlin Ambrosius, also known as Myrddin Emrys in Welsh and didn't want any of her friends or classmates seeing what she was doing. Hermione started when someone sat down in front of her and she quickly and smoothly covered her work with a different parchment.

"Delacour."

Smiling, Hermione met the intense gaze of Sirius Black. "Sirius, what are you doing here?" She asked, casually slipping unrelated papers over her Merlin research.

"We need to talk," he stated a heavy and somber look about him.

"Dreaded words," Hermione chuckled. "What can I do for you?"

Sirius refused to smile at her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "I'm here about my brother."

Hermione continued watching him, her gaze curious. "Yes? What about Regulus?"

"You need to stay away from him," he informed her.

The witch's mouth opened and closed once as the shock of his statement washed over her. _"Excuse_ me?"

"Look, I'm saying this for you, Delacour. He's- he's getting involved in some stuff and it would be best for you to stay away from him."

"He's my friend," she declared. "He's sweet and he doesn't need you being this way with him while trying to deal with other stuff."

"He may be your friend, but he's my brother. I know him better than you and he's not the sort you should be mixing with."

"I can mix with whoever I choose, Sirius Black," she proclaimed, glaring at the boy while gathering all her papers. "You have no right to claim you know him better than me. Maybe once, when you were younger that was true but I can assure you, you know nothing about the man he's turning into."

"Don't you dare say I don't know my brother! I know him better than anyone!"

"That's a lie, Sirius! When was the last time you talked to him? Actually talked to him without having preconceived ideas and notions about him in your head."

"I tried! I listened to your stupid recommendations and tried to talk to him. He just pushed me away," Sirius shook his head in frustration. "He didn't want to talk to me."

"Maybe because everytime you look at him, you see an 'evil' Slytherin, a follower, a miniature copy of your father and he doesn't want to waste his words on someone who won't listen no matter what he says."

Sirius sighed, his glare still firmly in place. "That's what he is! He's everything my parents wanted in a son: dark and prejudiced."

"He hangs out with Lily and me," she argued.

"Sure, but you're a pureblood and he only puts up with Lily during your weird study sessions."

Hermione recoiled and froze, her mouth agape in shock. "Umm... I thought Remus had told you..." She trailed off with a perplexed chuckle. _But why would he?_ She asked herself. _He's the only one that knows that I'm an adopted muggleborn._

"Told me what?" Sirius demanded, frowning.

The Delacour witch shook her head. "It's not important. The point is, there are many prejudiced purebloods that would never even consider sharing a table with a muggleborn, yet he does. Doesn't that prove anything about his character?"

"Hermione, I live with him, I know very well that he agrees with my parents' beliefs. I've heard what he says about people like Lily. He's getting into dangerous territory."

Hermione sighed and tilted her head. "You live with Regulus?" She repeated his words in disbelief. "This summer, you went to the Potters after a week. You don't live with him anymore, Sirius. You have no idea what he's going through."

"Oh, and you do?" Sirius exclaimed, his tone full of rage.

"As a matter of fact, I do! He told me!"

Sirius groaned. "And you believed him?! If you knew the reason why I left, you'd understand! Why won't you just listen to me! If you stay friends with him, you'll end up hurt. I'm just trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?! Well, that's ridiculous, you can barely stand me!"

"That doesn't mean I want to see you hurt."

"I appreciate your concern Sirius, but I will not turn my back on Regulus the same way you did!"

Sirius froze, his eyes wide and full of pain. Hermione gasped as she realized what she had just said. "No, Sirius I didn't-"

The black haired boy shook his head as he stood and walked away, his shoulders hunched. Hermione watched him leave, feeling horrified by what she had just done. Hurriedly, she waved her wand over her papers, sending them to her room and scurried down the corridor, hoping to catch up with the tall Gryffindor boy. She finally found him after casting a few _point me_ spells. He was sitting under the 'Marauder tree' by the lake, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and his chin resting on his knees.

"Here to tell me again about what a shite brother I am?" He snapped, keeping his gaze fixed on the surface of the lake.

"I came to apologize. What I said was out of line and a lie."

"Was it, though?"

"Sirius, you're young. We all are. And we are in a messed up situation that we don't know how to deal with. But the fact is, we don't have a choice: this war is coming and we're all doing our best to survive this life, even if we're doing it in our own ways that others might not approve of. You're dealing by pushing away your family and your brother is trying the opposite technique by making them proud. Maybe your way is braver, maybe his is wiser, either way, you can't judge him for the way he is at home."

"He's the same at Hogwarts though, he doesn't want my help or support. He hates me because I left him."

"Do you know that? Has he told you that?"

"Not in so many words..."

"So you're assuming," Hermione stated, with a half shrug.

"I'm reading between the lines: when someone refuses to talk to you, it usually means they hate you."

"Not necessarily. It could just be that they don't know what to say."

"So you think that this whole problem with my brother is simply because he doesn't know what to say?" Sirius scoffed. "Yeah, sure."

Hermione sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position and turning to face the lake instead of Sirius. A breeze caused her hair to flip over her shoulder and she shivered, pulling her sweater closer to her body. Finally, after a moment of silence, Hermione shook her head and chuckled somewhat in resignation.

"Why is it that almost everytime we talk we end up arguing?" She wondered.

Sirius shrugged. "Guess we just rub each other the wrong way."

"You're not a bad person, Sirius and you're not a bad brother either. Regulus and you, you've made mistakes but you can still be there for each other, as long as you show each other that you still care."

"We'll see about that. I'm still not convinced Regulus likes me. And I still think it'd be best for you to stay away from him."

"Sirius-" Hermione sighed, again.

"I know, I know!" Sirius claimed, raising his arms in surrender and smiling teasingly at Hermione. "I just wanted to be sure you remembered what I said when things turn to shite. That way you won't fight my 'I told you so'."

Hermione released a surprised snort of laughter and flicked the black haired boy. "I believe the day will indeed come that the words 'I told you so' will need to be said. However, I'm quite certain, they will be leaving my lips and not yours."

"Is that a bet, Delacour?"

Hermione hesitated but smiled. "Yes, it is," she nodded, taking his hand in a binding shake.

* * *

Remus grumbled as he joined Hermione in the Library. Snapping his book open he then proceeded to glare menacingly at the pages in front of him. Hermione glanced at the boy briefly before continuing on with her work. A loud huff of frustration pulled her attention away from her essay once again. Smiling in resigned amusement, Hermione crossed her arms over her work and observed her friend for a moment in silence.

"What seems to be bothering you today, Remus?"

Remus puffed and shook his head. "James, Sirius and Peter just kicked me out of the dorm room!" Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, causing Remus to break out into a fit of angry chuckles. "Yeah, they did! I was reading a book on my bed and they just stormed in and told me that I was forbidden from entering the room until they said so!"

"Did they explain why?" Hermione questioned, softly.

"Just that they were trying to give 'my furry little problem a friend', whatever that is supposed to mean! But they just kicked me out!"

"I'm sure they didn't mean to offend you," Hermione reassured.

Remus scoffed. "If you think I haven't noticed the fact that the three of them have been up to something these past few weeks... Excluding me..." He trailed off, a sad glint taking over his gaze.

"Perhaps they're organizing a surprise birthday celebration," Hermione offered.

"My birthday's in March: how much time do you need to plan a surprise party?" He asked, disbelieving.

"Well, I'm sure they'll tell you eventually."

"But why don't they tell me now?" Remus questioned, rejected.

Hermione grimaced, unsure how to defend the other Marauders without giving them away. "I'm sure everything will work out sooner or later."

Remus flipped a page from his book in order to avoid revealing the fact that he had his doubts. Perhaps it was his childhood insecurities coming back to haunt him but he couldn't help but worry that as his friends grew older and developed a better sense of judgment, they were starting to realize that befriending a werewolf was not in their best interests.

Hermione, picking up on the downward spiral Remus' mind was taking and decided to lighten up the atmosphere by changing the subject. "The other day when I pulled you away from the Gryffindor table, what were Potter and Black talking about?"

"What?"

"You know, James was saying you had said that Sirius was wrong and then I said you were always right and then Sirius said that I didn't know anything so what I said wasn't of any importance?"

"Oh," Remus chuckled as he recalled the conversation. "What about it?"

"Well... What were you all talking about?"

"Um," Remus grimaced. "One of Sirius' weird fetishes."

"Which is?"

Remus shuddered. "You don't want to know. Trust me."

"It can't be that bad! I'm sure you're all overreacting!" Hermione laughed.

"Probably," Remus agreed. "It's still disgusting though."

"Tell me, please?"

Remus hesitated. "I think it's Sirius' secret to tell."

"Secret? He was discussing it quite liberally in the Great Hall," Hermione argued.

"Still not gonna tell you. I'd like to avoid ever talking about it again if at all possible."

Hermione huffed, falling back into her seat. "Fine. I'll jut have to work on getting it out of Sirius."

"Good luck with that," Remus laughed. "Chances are as soon as he finds out you want to know, he's purposefully going to taunt you with it and refuse to tell you, just to get a rise out of you."

* * *

"Do you know what Sev just told me?" Lily exclaimed as she joined Hermione by the lake.

"No, what did he say?" Hermione inquired, watching as Pandora attempted to attract Grindylows to the surface of the lake by throwing in pieces of Dirigible Plums. "That's never going to work," Hermione pointed out but Pandora simply waved her away.

"I should have brought a coat, it's already getting cold," Lily commented, shivering in the breeze.

"That's what Severus said? I was expecting something a bit more interesting, what with the way you strode over here in determination."

"What? No! That's not what he just told me!" She declared, rubbing her arms in the hopes of warming herself up.

Taking pity over Lily, Hermione smiled and cast a warming charm over the girl. Lily sighed in satisfaction. "I always forget to use spells for myself," she admitted.

Hermione grinned. "So, Severus said?" She prompted.

"Godric, you won't believe it! He started spouting all these facts about _werewolves_ of all things! But that's not the worst part!"

"What's the worst part?" Hermione asked, patiently, despite already knowing what was coming.

"He started asking me if I had noticed anything odd about Remus," Lily whisper-yelled.

"What did you tell him?" Hermione wondered.

 _"Nothing!"_ Lily exclaimed, absolutely aghast. "I would never! It's not my story to tell."

Hermione smiled softly, turning towards the black-haired boy who was strolling in their direction. "I hear you've been asking questions, Severus," Hermione stated, teasingly.

"I have," he agreed, settling himself beside the girls. "Anything you'd like to share, Hermione?"

"Not really, no," Hermione denied, throwing a meaningful look at the redhead who was watching the exchange like a dear caught in headlights. "Well..." Hermione trailed off. "I do feel like I should warn you: you shouldn't dig into this Severus but if you must insist, just promise me you won't take anything Sirius says seriously."

"Take Black seriously?" Severus scoffed, kicking the toes of his boots into the dirt. "You don't have to tell me that."

"Nonetheless, I want to keep the 'I told you so' option available to me."

Severus shook his head, chuckling as if Hermione had just said the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. After he had caught his breath, he glanced at the calm blonde by the edge of the lake. "What's Pandora up to?" He wanted to know.

"She's trying to lure some Grindylows to the surface," Hermione informed him, her tone suggesting the exasperation she felt.

"With Dirigible Plums? Everyone knows they only eat algae, fish, and other sea creatures."

"And the occasional humans," Dora added, peacefully continuing on with littering the surface of the lake with pieces of orange plums.

"You'd have more luck attracting a Grindylow by throwing in one of your fingers then by using plums," Severus claimed, moving over to sit closer to the short blonde girl.

"She's convinced she's onto something," Hermione stage whispered to Lily.

"You, on the other hand, don't sound convinced," Lily commented.

"I daresay this is one of those rare moments where I agree with the facts everyone else has: Gringylows will never eat Dirigible Plums," Hermione admitted. "This one's a lost cause."

"Well, you know it's a bad sign when Hermione Delacour immediately disapproves of one of Pandora's theories or magical creatures," Lily joked, causing Hermione to glare at her.

* * *

Tom Riddle was sitting at his desk, crumpled parchments and open books were strewn all over the surface. His visit with his old friend had left him with the same knowledge as the one all those years ago, which meant close to nothing. He had left the useless wizard alive, but his mind forever distorted with painful memories of his past. The Dark Lord couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of what his pet had done to the man, who was now nothing but a shell of himself. Of course, Tom could have performed Dark Magic and ended up with the same results, but why should he waste his magnificent power on those so drastically inferior to him? Especially when he had at his disposition someone with natural-born and specially trained abilities.

The Dark Lord had not expected much from his visit, having already drained the man of all his knowledge years ago but Voldemort hated it when certain intelligence evaded him and on this particular matter, Voldemort was all but clueless, though he would never admit it.

What had that little witch been doing in Merlin's Circle? Had she truly been searching for a way to find Merlin's tomb? And if she had, why? All witches and wizards seeking power had searched for Merlin's resting place, but never at such a young age - except the Dark Lord himself, but few could truly compare to him. All had visited the locations related to Merlin, had meditated on his presumed graves and the like. None had gotten very far and those who had had all perished or disappeared.

Perhaps it was foolish of Tom to be so perplexed over the young witch's actions. Perhaps she was simply one of those arrogant people who believed that with the help of their intelligence and some heavy reading, they'd be able to find Merlin's grave. Riddle scoffed and slammed his wand onto his desk, curling his left hand into a tight fist. Perhaps she simply enjoyed the location and found it relaxing. And yet... And yet Tom couldn't help but think there was more to it than that. He knew why he suspected as much: It was because of the power he had felt the two times he had been in her presence. That mind-numbing, mouth-watering power that was contained in her tiny and breakable body. _So breakable._

Resisting the urge to bang his fist against the table, Tom lurched out of his seat and started pacing the length of his office. He hated this. Close to nothing in this world could make him react and feel so frustrated. In fact, only one thing left him feeling frustrated: power - that is, power he had not yet acquired. Only power could invoke such strong feelings of frustration, elation, and _desire._ Oh, yes. He desired that witch in a way he had almost never desired anything before - only his desire for immortality and control trumped his desire for her power. Her otherworldly and intoxicating power.

Suddenly, Tom paused, his face falling into a steel cold mask. He needed to feel that power again, guarantee to himself that he wasn't obsessing over nothing. That this irresistible power was indeed contained within that little French witch. Without hesitation, Tom grabbed his cloak and disapparated from his office, appearing just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village.

Voldemort was pleased to see that it was indeed, a Hogsmeade weekend, not that that would have prevented him from finding the witch today. Closing his eyes in order to concentrate, Tom focused on his Magic and reached out, ignoring all the weak Cores surrounding him until finally, he found the one that interested him. Striding through the village, Tom paid little attention to anyone else until he reached the Three Broomsticks. Deciding it would draw less attention to himself, he chose to wait outside for the witch to exit the bar.

Only a few minutes later did she leave, on the arm of a tall and gawky boy who Tom judged could only be a Hufflepuff. _Ridiculous._ Riddle sneered as he eyed the boy. Quickly, he moved his gaze to the reason for his trip. _S_ _o, so deliciously breakable,_ the Dark Lord thought to himself once again, as he took in the small and delicate frame of the witch.

"Severus!" Hermione yelled, waving over a tall boy.

"Snape," Tom murmured, realizing he would need to talk to Lucius about including the boy in his mission. His connection to the Delacour witch was something Tom would have to be a fool to not use.

He continued to watch the girl's interactions for a moment. Voldemort tilted his head thoughtfully, trying to analyze the power radiating from her. It was everything he had thought it was. But also so much more... Indeed, Tom observed as the witch strolled away from him. While it was strong, complex, and tempting there was something niggling at the back of his mind. _It was familiar._ Not in the sense that he had felt it from her before because obviously, he had, but more that he had actually felt it coming from somewhere else, before ever actually crossing paths with her. He had come across a power similar to hers somewhere else, however, he could not recall where.

Tom sighed as he considered what this could possibly mean. It would seem that he needed to take a more detailed interest into Hermione Delacour. He no longer simply needed to own her in the future, he also needed to own her past and her present in order to figure out where he had felt her power before. He should have realized this previously, but he had been so distracted by her raw power that he had ignored his other senses. As frustrated with himself as he felt for his oversight, Tom shivered in anticipation. He had always loved a challenge. And he always won.

 **A/N: Here you go, please tell me what you thought. And I'm terribly sorry again for the slow update but well... Life, ahe?**

 **I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Question: Why or how do you think Tom has felt Hermione's Magic before? It's actually a fairly easy question, or I think it is but that might only be because I know the answer, but I'm almost certain at least one of the reasons is easy to guess.**

 **PS. I just want to warn you: My next update might also be slow, though I really don't plan/want that to happen, but just know that the next chapter WILL come (I'm already working on it)! You probably won't be happy to read this warning but yeah, what can you do when life gets screwed up, messes with your head and then your writing schedule ends up suffering as well? *Sigh***


	30. Chapter 30: Their tells

**A/N: So here we go. I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you thought!**

 **And about some reviews: Please don't apologize for asking for more (I hope it didn't sound like I was 'reprimanding' you or something), because know that it makes me glad to know that you're eagerly awaiting for more chapters so don't stop now. And also, thank you for the reassurances from some of you! I actually wanted to respond to few reviews but well, time got away from me. Though I guess I still might, or I'll try for this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I think we all know what belongs here.**

A lone figure glided through the empty corridors of Hogwarts. Not a footstep could be heard, not a painted figure shifted in their frame. Silence and darkness surrounded the figure as it strode confidently towards its destination. Finally, it passed by the famous gargoyle statue leading to the Headmaster's office. Nothing moved as the figure contemplated the statue. Decisively, a smooth voice murmured the password and sighing resignedly, the statue moved aside. As silent as a ghost, the figure ascended the small staircase and entered the office.

The cloaked man took a moment to observe the office before strolling over to the desk and shuffling through the documents. Finding nothing of interest, the man turned to the locked cabinet and waved his wand, opening it without a word. Satisfied the tall man pulled out a large thick tome and placed it on the desk. Quickly he flipped through the book until he found the page he wanted. _Hermione Delacour._ His eyes scanned the page. Only one other name, smaller, could be read, scrolled neatly just above hers, one thin blue line linking the two together. _Guillaume Delacour._ The two names appeared almost lonely on the page when compared to the other student names who were surrounded by numerous family names and ties.

The man was intrigued, his face still hidden in shadows. The Delacour family was a large one, so why was it that this Delacour witch only had one official connection? He pulled his wand out, he was about to cast a spell when he was interrupted by a soft voice behind him.

"Welcome," the easily recognizable voice of Albus Dumbledore greeted.

"Dumbledore," the man spat.

Dumbledore hummed as he languidly wandered around his office. "I'm truly surprised to see you here."

The tall man put away his wand and walked towards the door, ignoring the weak attempt at small talk. Albus took the opportunity to glance at the page that the other wizard had been studying.

"Hermione Delacour," he read aloud. "Interesting choice... Did you really expect me to keep detailed student information all together in one book so easily accessible?" He wondered.

The man who had just reached the door paused and turned slightly to face the Headmaster. He took a second to remove his hood, revealing his tamed black locks, shocking green eyes, and cruel grin. "Of course not, but you gave me all the information I needed," he stated. "Have a nice evening, Headmaster," he mocked.

Dumbledore watched the man leave, despairing in his inability to do anything. "Goodnight, Tom."

* * *

Hermione watched as Regulus struggled with his meditation and sighed.

"Regulus, you're pushing yourself too hard. The meditation process needs to be done slowly and calmly if you keep up this way, it will take you twice as long to achieve your animagus form."

"Just be quiet, Hermione," he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"I thought you wanted my help?"

"No, you volunteered, practically latched onto me like a leech."

"Well. Alright," she huffed, throwing the strap of her satchel over her shoulder. "I'll be seeing you another day, once you've calmed down."

With those words, she left the empty classroom and headed for the Hogwarts courtyard in order to get some much needed fresh air. Once there she reached for the Founders Diary, still disguised as _Hogwarts: A History._ Placing it carefully on her lap, Hermione ducked her head to read, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. She had been so distracted these past few months that she had almost completely forgotten about this journal, which was truthfully quite embarrassing considering the Founders had _found_ the tomb and actually _documented_ their endeavour. Had they mentioned the exact location of the grave? Hermione couldn't recall. Hermione's eyes quickly scanned the pages as she flicked through the book, searching for the mention of Merlin's resting place.

Catching a glimpse of it, Hermione backtracked a few pages and smoothed her hand over the correct page.

 _November 13th, 993_

 _I have stolen this notebook away from Helga. I plan on writing my own version of events. Helga would have transformed it into a child's bedtime story, she would have removed the blood and terrifying creatures. Here are the real tellings of what happened tonight, unchanged: Rowena and Salazar dragged us out to a large wild park in the French countryside. Once in the park, we followed the pair to a medium sized lake with a thin bridge leading to a small island overgrown with bushes and trees protecting from sight a tomb-like building. Helga and I stayed back, watching the eager pair approach the iron gates surrounding it. So suddenly that we both missed it, the pair was being stabbed and attacked by what appeared to be stone men._

And then, much further down the page, the name of the one who had written it.

 _-Godric Gryffindor_

Hermione released a frustrated breath. Of course, there was no mention of the exact location. Still, it narrowed down many options: French countryside, wild park, a small lake and a bridge leading to an island. Hermione would write a letter to Guillaume asking him to look into it during his next visit to France, after all, there couldn't be that many areas fitting the Founders' description in France, could there?

The witch was interrupted from her musings by somebody taking a seat by her side on the outdoor bench. Glancing to the side, Hermione smiled and sat up straight.

"Feeling relaxed so soon?"

Regulus snorted. "As much as I can, given the circumstances."

"The fresh air will help."

"I shouldn't have snapped at you, for that I apologize but I've been under a lot of pressure these past few weeks, and it's getting continuously worse."

Smiling sadly, Hermione raised a hand and carefully rearranged one of his rebellious locks. "It's okay, I understand."

When Hermione dropped her hand back down her attention was drawn to some movement behind Regulus and as she focused on it, she noticed the Marauders gathered in a corner of the courtyard. They were wildly waving their wands causing things to transform, explode and fly around. No doubt they were preparing another large-scale prank. Hermione's gaze traveled from one Marauder to the next until it landed on Sirius who, to her shock, was already staring right back at her with a slight frown. Her brow furrowed, not comprehending his look, after all, she had made it clear during their last conversation that she wasn't going to stay away from Regulus, so why did he appear so annoyed?

Choosing to ignore him, Hermione continued to chat with Regulus until he informed her that he needed to get to Potions. Waving him goodbye Hermione remained still for a moment longer before meeting the still intense gaze of Sirius Black. Not able to resist, Hermione gave into temptation and strolled distractedly towards the group of boys, stopping only twice in order to speak separately with her roommates Rebecca and Amelia.

"What have I done now to deserve your anger, Sirius?" She inquired resignedly as she joined the boys.

"Nothing, why do you think I'm angry with you?"

"Your glare has been burning a whole into my head since I came to the courtyard," she commented.

"Don't be ridiculous, Delacour. I didn't even notice you were here," Sirius retorted.

"Mate, you're talking to _Delacour_ ," James snickered. "If we noticed you staring at her, she sure as hell did as well."

Sirius snapped his dark glare towards his best mate and elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up, Potter."

"You're not helping your case, Sirius," Remus informed the boy.

" _Fine_ ," Sirius relented. "I was glaring because you were talking to Regulus," he admitted.

Hermione grimaced. "I believe we've already had this discussion."

"During which I told you to stay away from him," the Black boy reminded.

"Something to which I never agreed to."

"Humpf," he puffed out while crossing his arms, a teasing glint entering his eyes. "My 'I told you so' is on the tip of my tongue."

"As well as mine, Sirius," she sang back, leaning back against the wall and taking in the yellowing parchment spread out between the four of them. "What are you all up to?" She wanted to know.

Quickly Peter rolled up the paper and stuffed it in his satchel. "Nothing," he squeaked.

A laugh bellowed out of James. "Way to give away the fact that we're doing something _extra-curricular,_ Peter!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in amusement. "Is that what you're calling _it_ now?"

"It?" Sirius questioned.

"Your pranks," she explained.

James' face lit up as the perfect opportunity to lead her off the right track presented itself. "Yep, yep. Exactly!"

Hermione shook her head, knowing full well that they were, in fact, working on the Marauders' Map and not a prank.

Hermione frowned humorously and shook her head as if she were finally giving up on the boys. "One would think you'd be good liars," she muttered.

"We're excellent liars!" James exclaimed, outraged by what he considered a slight on his person.

"Really? Then why don't I believe you?" Hermione challenged.

"Perhaps, a test is in order?" Remus offered, trying to calm the quickly rising tempers.

"Pick me, pick me!" Sirius yelled, waving his right arm wildly in the air.

"First time he's _volunteered_ for a te st," James grumbled, only to be ignored.

"Alright, Sirius, the test is simple: say something to Hermione, a lie or a truth and then she'll have to tell us which it was."

Sirius remained quiet for a moment, a look of deep concentration taking over his face as he carefully thought through what he was going to say.

"Reckon it should be a good one," he mumbled to himself. "Last week, I snogged Dorcas Meadowes."

Pursing her lips Hermione waited a moment before giving her answer, meeting Sirius' unwavering stare. "False," she declared.

"Blimey! Last week I snogged Alice Fawley," he announced.

"I don't even need to look for your tells to know that's a lie," Hermione stated, carelessly.

"I don't have any bloody tells!" Sirius hollered. "I snogged Marlene McKinnon."

"Still lying."

"I snogged Mary McDonald!"

Here, Hermione paused before smiling triumphantly. "Now that's the truth."

"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered, falling backward resignedly.

The Marauders looked at her in amazement. "It's not some crazy feat. I know all your tells, though if it comforts you, I'm sure not everyone knows about them."

"What are our tells? Tell us so we can work on them!" Peter questioned.

Hermione turned towards the short boy and bit her lower lip. "Hmm," she hummed. "I'll tell you if Sirius tells me what his gross fetish is," she bargained.

Sirius smirked as he slinked closer to the witch. "You curious, Delacour? Want to know all about my kinky fetishes?"

"My thirst for knowledge," she gave a half-shrug. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Yes!" James exclaimed at the same time that Sirius crossed his arms. "Nope."

"What?!" James demanded.

"I'm not telling Hermione my odd curiosity," he told his friends. "Besides we can easily find someone else to tell us what our tells are. Whereas we're the only ones who can tell Delacour what she wants to know."

"Fine, I suppose," James relented.

Standing up, Hermione brushed off her legs. "Suit yourselves," she accepted. "I'll see you lot around."

With that, she immediately started to walk away but paused when Sirius called her name. She turned, raising one expectant eyebrow, feeling a slight bit nervous when she noticed the dark glint in Sirius' eyes and the knowing smirk spreading across his lips.

"I just wanted you to know: I'll be thinking of you in my fetish tonight," he told her, knowing what saying that would do to her. Smugly, he leaned back and met her gaze in a challenge. "Am I lying?"

Hesitantly, Hermione's eyes traveled the whole of his face and then his body, searching for one of his tells. When she found none, she pressed her lips together tightly, rearranged the strap of her bag and then turned, ignoring the loud guffaws from the Marauders behind her.

* * *

Tapping her foot on the wet floor Hermione dropped the book in her hand, letting it levitate in front of her as she banged her head against the wall behind her. She had read the Founders Diary from cover to cover but could find nothing more detailed than the first passage she had found.

 _Ssslytherin Hermione Granger,_ the hissing voice called for her attention.

"Oh, you're back already," she breathed in surprise, not looking up but smiling nonetheless.

 _Missstresss,_ Anguis hissed in acknowledgment.

"How was your outing?" Hermione wondered.

 _Pleasssant,_ he informed her, turning his head away from her so that she could look around freely.

"Did you go far?" She asked, curiously.

 _No further than the three hillsss,_ Anguis informed her.

Hermione raised one brow in surprise. "That is still quite a distance," the witch commented, reaching for her book once again as she finally overcame her previous frustration with the book.

Anguis' body tensed, his head lifting from its place on the ground while still being turned away from her. _You are angry,_ he proclaimed.

"Not angry, no, more like annoyed," she admitted.

 _For what reassson?_

"I'm searching for knowledge and it seems to be forever just out of my reach," she complained.

Anguis shifted closer in order for Hermione to be able to caress him with more ease. Hermione locked her gaze on her hands, watching as her fingers trailed over the emerald scales and decided to give a shot in the dark.

"Salazar Slytherin, Anguis, did he ever come to you to talk about Merlin?"

 _Yess._

"What did he say to you? Did he tell you anything about where Merlin rested?"

 _Of courssse,_ Anguis informed her, his tone empty of emotion.

"Where? Where did he say Merlin was?" Hermione demanded, her hands tensing on the creature in frustration despite knowing it wasn't Anguis' fault. He wasn't being vague to intentionally annoy her, it was simply the way he was.

 _Here, in Hogwartsss,_ Anguis told her. _He admitted that when he and the other Foundersss dissscovered Merlin'sss Magic here, they were all very sssurprisssed and knew not what to make of it._

"No, Anguis, you misunderstand, I don't want to know where Merlin's magic is, I already know that Merlin's Magical Core is hidden on Hogwarts' grounds. I want to know where Merlin's _body_ is. Did Salazar ever mention that?"

Anguis remained silent for a moment. _No, you misssunderstand,_ Anguis hissed. _All magical creaturess are inborn with one specific magical knowledge: that they and their magic are one. It isss the one thing we know from our birth till our death, we can not divide body and magic._

"What does this have to do with my question about Merlin?" Hermione wanted to know.

 _No matter that Wizardsss and Witchesss want to convince themssselvesss that they are ssseparate from the ressst of usss, that they are more than usss, the fact remainsss that they are magical creaturesss jussst like the ressst of usss._

Hermione frowned, taking note of an inconsistency. "That's wrong, Merlin removed his Magic from his body, you know this, you must have sensed Merlin's Magic within me."

 _Yesss,_ Anguis agreed. _Humansss have found mossstruousss waysss in order to perform sssuch an act, however, while Merlin may have removed hisss Magic from hisss body, he did not remove himssself from the Magic._

"I don't understand."

 _Merlin and hisss Magic are forever connected. You have felt it in the way the Magic hasss resssisssted you,_ he stated.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You mean that's why I haven't been able to use his Magic?" The witch exclaimed.

 _Of coursse,_ he agreed, as if this were obvious.

"So I'll never be able to control his Magic," Hermione concluded, dejected.

 _No,_ Anguis disagreed. _I sssenssse it within you: you and Merlin are a divided one, for now. Find your connection with him and you will become a united one,_ he advised her sagely.

Hermione looked at the basilisk more closely. "Who knew Basilisks were so knowledgeable?" She tried to tease.

 _All Magical Creaturesss are knowledgeable, in their own way,_ Anguis corrected her, taking her seriously. _Magical humansss sssimply sssee themssselvess asss sssuperior._

Hermione hummed thoughtfully, thinking over everything Anguis had told her. It all seemed to be logical but still left her at a loss on how to find Merlin. In fact, it left her even more confused. While what he said gave her hope that one day she'd be able to regain full control of her Magic and possibly Merlin's, she remained unclear how that would happen. It was also still quite vague in her opinion how she would find Merlin himself in the first place, though Anguis seemed to believe he was being perfectly clear.

* * *

"Excuse me, if may I borrow Miss Delacour, please?" Albus inquired, his head peeking into the classroom from behind the door the was now ajar.

"Of course, Albus," the Charms Professor agreed with a squeak, looking quite surprised by the sudden interruption.

All the heads in the classroom snapped in her direction, the students wondering what she had done that merited Dumbledore coming to fetch her in person. Sighing, Hermione put down her quill and pushed herself away from the desk.

"Oh no, my dear," Albus shook his head. "Take your things with you, you won't be coming back," he informed her, looking at her, his eyes devoid of his usual twinkle.

Hermione grimaced, not liking where this was heading at all but obeyed and quickly collected her things. She smiled reassuringly at Adrian as she passed him. He gave her a slight nod of acknowledgment from his seat next to Pandora. In a number of minutes, she was out of the class and in the corridor with the Headmaster.

"What is it, Sir?" She inquired. "I still have an hour and a half of Charms, surely I'll be back before the end?"

Once again, Dumbledore shook his head. "Not here, my child," he told her, glancing at the pack of Gryffindors that were walking by, no doubt heading towards their Care of Magical Creatures lesson outside.

Realizing that this must mean that their discussion was a sensitive one, Hermione nodded and tightened her grip on her bag nervously. She followed Albus silently through the halls, growing more and more anxious with every step they took. Arriving at Dumbledore's office, Hermione stumbled in her steps as she noticed the solemn looking Aberforth sitting on the couch by the fireplace.

"Aberforth?" Hermione said his name in a whispered question, the weight of the heavy atmosphere crashing down on her as she took in both their somber faces. "Albus?"

Hermione's heart faltered when Aberforth turned away from her, his gaze unbearably sad. "What's going on? What's wrong?" She demanded in a rush, already feeling tears burning her eyes as the silence seemed to reveal everything the pair wouldn't.

Albus released a breath full of sadness. "This is one of these situations that I always pray to never find myself in," Albus admitted.

"Best you take a seat, Hermione."

Reluctantly, Hermione moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch Aberforth was sitting on. No one spoke. "Well? What is it?" She demanded, feeling in no way patient for any silent games.

"You've been called away from school by your family for a few days, Hermione," Albus informed her, tiredly. "Your cousins Marine and Clarice will be coming to fetch you in half an hour."

"Marine and Clarice?" Hermione repeated in confusion. "Why not Guillaume?"

Hermione looked at the two men when she asked her question and froze when she noticed their faces. Suddenly, everything made sense. "Guillaume?" She whispered.

The brothers shared a look and Albus sighed in resignation. "There's something you need to know Hermione."

* * *

Adrian felt worried by the time dinner rolled around and Hermione was still absent. She had not returned from her visit with the Headmaster that first afternoon period. Dinner had come and gone with rumors of Hermione's whereabouts flying wildly around. Pandora attempted to comfort Adrian as much as she could despite her own concerns. When Adrian was forced to go to breakfast without Hermione the next day, his fears grew and only increased when still she remained missing by lunch time.

Adrian was shifting his food around in his plate, his cheek resting on his palm, Pandora also lost in thought by his side. They had long since exhausted their feeble tries at small talk and expressions of uneasiness. Remus suddenly took a seat next to them and smiled.

"Is Hermione sick? I'd like to know because we usually meet in the library during our free period after lunch," he said.

Adrian looked at him grimly. "Hermione's not sick. Haven't you heard? She was pulled out of Charms class yesterday and hasn't been seen since."

Remus' eyes widened. "I had heard but since most people were adding in their own suspicions, I didn't give them any credence. I mean, some people actually suggested she had been expelled. Ridiculous," Remus scoffed the last word, crossing his arms in annoyance only to suddenly sit up straight as realization hit him. "Wait a minute... If she isn't sick and obviously she hasn't been expelled...What's happened to her?"

Adrian exhaled shakily. "We have no idea."

And so the day continued, with more and more people starting to worry. It wasn't until the next day that the rest of the Marauders' noticed the French witch's disappearance and the austere atmosphere surrounding their werewolf friend.

"Is Delacour sick, mate?" Sirius asked, wondering if it was a serious illness.

"No, she was pulled out of class by Dumbledore and hasn't been seen since," Remus replied with a shake of his head.

"So the rumors of her being kicked out were true?!" Peter squeaked.

"Don't be an idiot, Pete," James snapped. "This is Hermione we're talking about."

"What happened?" Sirius wanted to know.

"I don't know," Remus admitted. "Neither do Adrian and Pandora."

When Wednesday came and went with still no news from Hermione, the dark aura around those close to Hermione only grew more as the worry and slight fear intensified. Everything inside them seemed to explode when, at dinner Thursday evening Albus Dumbledore received an owl that caused him to tense, sigh in defeat and frown in concern as he read the note. Then finally, after a pause, he stood and quickly left the hall.

 **A/N: I hope there were no mistakes, I re-read and re-read but somehow still some escape me. Point out the ones that are absolutely horrendous if you want to. Otherwise, I greatly appreciate your thoughts and opinions and your constructive criticism, which I do try to take into account. Thank you to all my amazing reviewers! And well done to the ones who guessed what our dear Tom is feeling in Hermione correctly. Though I think only one or two of you actually guessed it _all,_ most of you were halfway there.**

 **So, here's my question this week: What's going on with Hermione and the Delacours? Any ideas?**


	31. Chapter 31: When a brother is gone

**A/N: Oh my gosh, I'm so happy you all love Guillaume so much! I love him too, though that doesn't mean I haven't killed him. *Evil laugh* Have I killed him? You'll all have to wait and see. As soon as Hermione knows, you'll also know. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**

 **Also, I realize I forgot to answer one review question (despite having PMed a reply, a useless reply since I didn't answer the question my PM was supposed to give the response to. Urgh, how stupid. I'm such an airhead). Anyway, I thought it might interest others too. So,** paulaa90 **wanted to know how Voldemort got into Hogwarts: I'll be honest with you, this is something I am bringing into the story and I don't think it's possible in the actual Harry Potter world.**

 **While I won't give details yet (because it'll come later in the story), it has to do with something in my story which has a lot of importance and power (now I realize this might be a big hint and help some of you figure it out, it's not that big of a deal, nor much of a spoiler because you could have already figured it out just by _reading_ my story (Don't feel stupid if you haven't figured it out, because honestly, if I wasn't writing this story, I don't know if I would have figured out how Voldemort got into the school)). **

**So this is just so that you all know: Voldemort _did_ have a way into Hogwarts, he didn't just apparate inside.**

 **Disclaimer: You probably know who owns what.**

Apolline neatly placed her spoon by the side of her bowl and delicately ripped off a piece of her bread. "Thank you for being here, Hermione."

Hermione smiled sadly. "Guillaume would have wanted us to be there for each other."

The blonde pureblood witch nodded as she finished chewing. "You're quite right," she agreed, standing to hug the younger girl. "However, the time has come for you to return to school."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're sending me away?"

"Guillaume wouldn't want you to risk your education for him, you've been away for long enough," Apolline said, soothingly.

Hermione pushed the French witch away from her. "Guillaume would know that my education was safe. I know more than half the students of Hogwarts combined," Hermione declared. "I'm an enthusiastic and avid reader," she admitted with a slight shrug when Apolline raised her left eyebrow in amusement. "I'm his sister, I- I-"

"Hermione, _ma puce,_ you know that what I said is the truth. Guillaume, no matter where he is, be he captive or dead, wouldn't want you to put your whole life on pause for him," Apolline spoke softly, pulling the smaller witch back into her arms and running a reassuring hand through her riotous curls. "As his fiancée, I am taking responsibility for you and you _will_ be returning to class on Monday. No matter how smart you may be, you know very well that in order to pass your OWLs and NEWTs, you need to attend your classes."

Hermione sighed and turned away her face twisting into something that resembled pain. "You're right, of course, you are."

Hermione was just about to depart, deciding to pack her bag now rather than last minute later that evening when Apolline grabbed her wrist. "Hermione, _ma belle,_ know that I will be by your side through it all, no matter what happens."

"That's kind of you, Apolline but you do realize that, if Guillaume is dead, you have no obligation towards me," Hermione mumbled, accepting.

"I know this, however, I love Guillaume and in the time I have been dating him, I have grown fond of you as well. I will not throw you aside."

"You'll make an amazing sister, Apolline, I'm glad my brother chose you."

With a few more words shared between the pair, Hermione was soon in her room, putting away the meager amount of clothes she had brought from Hogwarts. Before she knew it, she was stepping out of the fireplace in Albus' office and smiled as the Headmaster greeted her.

"I'll just be straight off to bed," she murmured, tiredly.

As she reached the door, Albus called her back. "He is only missing, dear girl, keep hope that he shall return to you."

Hermione grimaced. "He is missing," she agreed. "Our home was clearly the location of a rather brutal duel and there was blood everywhere. I have hope but I cannot stop my fear. He is my only family in this time."

Albus shook his head. "Perhaps he may be your only legal family on _paper_ but you have Apolline, your cousins, Remus considers you his pack sibling, Aberforth sees you as a sort of granddaughter, as do I, Adrian is one of your closest friends along with Pandora, not to mention the Marauders - as I believe they've been named-, as well as your Slytherin acquaintances and that Hufflepuff boy you've been dating... The list goes on, my dear, and with such a long list of people, you should not forget those currently by your side who love you - as you certainly have many-," he advised. "Pray for you brother, but make sure to not push away the others who care for you in your grief."

Hermione nodded and smiled tiredly at the older man before leaving his office and striding purposefully towards the Ravenclaw tower. Silence spread in the Common Room as soon as she entered but she chose to ignore every single person present and marched up the stairs to her dorm. Hoping to avoid any possible conversation with her roommates Hermione shut the curtains around her bed and immediately tried to go to sleep. It was a few hours later, once all her roommates had gradually climbed into their own beds that Hermione sat up and raked a weak hand through her bird's nest hair. She had been twisting and turning since she had closed her eyes and Hermione felt uncomfortable and restless. As quietly as possible, she sneaked out of her dorm and into the Common Room. Hesitating for a short moment, Hermione hovered over the first step leading up towards the boys' dorms.

Giving into the need for a familiar presence, Hermione hurried up the stairs, paused at the closed door and carefully pressed her ear against it, checking for movement. The witch slowly opened the door to absolute stillness and silence, bar the particularly loud snoring coming from the opposite side of the dorm. Hermione tip-toed across the room and delicately tugged open the curtains around Adrian's bed.

"Hermione!" Adrian gasped, slapping his hands down suddenly on his comforter, staring at her with wide eyes from his place leaning against the headboard. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"You hadn't heard that I was back at Hogwarts? What with the way everyone stared at me when I came in I would have expected you to have been informed."

"No, no! Not at Hogwarts! Obviously, you were bound to come back at some point. I mean, some people were trying to pass on the rumor that you were expelled - but, anyone with a brain knew that was utter shite. And when the news story about your brother came out, everyone suspected-" He stopped and cleared his throat. "No, I meant here. In this room. This- this is the _boys' dorm,"_ he whispered the last two words, sounding absolutely shocked by her gall to enter a 'boys only' area. "Not that I'm not glad to see you because I am! Of course, I am! I was actually trying to figure out a way to sneak into the girls' dorm room to see you!" Adrian turned bright red. "Not that I would because that would be completely inappropriate..."

Hermione cut his fumbling thought process short when she threw herself into his arms and curled up at his side. "Oh Adrian, how I missed your awkward word vomits!"

Wrapping his arms around her Adrian held her tightly when he felt her slight trembling and reached for his wand, closing his drapes and casting a silencing charm. "What's wrong Hermione? Where were you this past week?"

Hermione lifted her head for a moment to shake her head and release a shaky breath. "Not tonight, please," she begged and held him tighter when he nodded. "Tomorrow, I promise," she assured.

Without another word said, the two slipped down the bed with Adrian comforting Hermione until she calmed and relaxed, finally falling asleep well into the night.

* * *

The next day, many people looked or rather, stared and whispered when a tired and unkept Hermione entered the Great Hall. Almost everyone had read the article about Guillaume Delacour in the _Daily Prophet_ and those who hadn't had heard the news from their classmates. Hermione, Adrian and Pandora took their usual seats and ate while ignoring the stares in their direction. Taking a bite from his jam and butter toast, Adrian finally dared question Hermione once again.

"Why were you pulled out of school? The _Prophet_ didn't say much, just that there was an attack on your house and that the Aurors and Delacours refused to comment."

Hermione breathed shakily before answering. "It was terrible Adrian. Our house was destroyed and there was blood _everywhere._ Death Eaters attacked and according to the Aurors, Voldemort himself. They sensed his magical signature," Hermione scoffed. "They can recognize his bloody magical signature but they can't match it to a blasted wizard. It's ridiculous," Hermione chuckled mockingly as her anger grew.

"It's a complicated process, Hermione. They can only match the signature to a witch or wizard if they've committed a crime or felony before," Adrian tried to calm her.

"Anyway, I was called in because the Aurors wanted to question me. Apparently, Voldemort only involves himself personally with 'high-profile' targets. They wanted to know if I knew why Guillaume was a target. I had nothing to say so that was over relatively fast," Hermione informed her friends.

"So why didn't you come back? You've been gone for almost a week."

"The rest of the Delacours requested I stay with Apolline for a few days. Since there was evidence of a struggle, my family hoped that maybe Guillaume had managed to escape and was in hiding. They wanted Apolline and me to be together in a place with easy access, thinking that if he had escaped he would either contact Apolline or me to tell us he was safe."

"Did he?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, he didn't and I'll admit I was disappointed despite trying to not hold out hope."

"Of course you were, how could you not be?" Adrian asked, rhetorically. "Your brother's missing."

Hermione nodded, feeling tears gather in her eyes as she got lost in thought. "People always hold out hope that those who are missing will return but that rarely happened last time. Those who were missing were lost. There is little chance that Guillaume is one of the lucky few."

"Keep hoping, Hermione. You never know," Adrian said, softly, both Pandora and him ignoring her odd phrasing, as usual.

Hermione quickly wiped the corner of her eyes and smiled. "Apolline was luckily away in Paris visiting her parents, planning the wedding so at least she's safe," she declared, attempting to put on a brave face.

Adrian and Pandora glanced at each other, seeing through her façade and both shuffled closer to the witch, trying to comfort her with their presence.

* * *

"Christmas is in three weeks," Remus started. "What are you going to do?" He asked, his eyes dancing around the group so as to avoid signaling anyone out.

"I'll be returning home for the holidays," Regulus stated, stiffly. "Severus has agreed to join me." Here, Snape nodded, as if to confirm Regulus' comment.

"My father and I are going to look for Miggleduff's up in the North with the Lovegoods. I would have rather stayed home in order to experiment with a few potions, but I suppose this will be fun enough," Pandora relented.

"I think my parents said we were meeting up with some family friends in the Alps," Lily told the group.

"I'll probably just be staying home with my close cousins. My parents haven't mentioned anything special this year," Adrian shrugged.

"I'm staying here," Hermione announced softly.

"Why?" Remus wondered. "Doesn't your family usually have a huge Delacour reunion?"

"Well yes, I just don't know if I'm up for pitying glances and condolences all throughout Christmas. I'd rather stay here with a few good, _silent_ books."

The others looked away, pulling at their sleeves awkwardly or opening their books and getting to work. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she grimaced. "I dulled the atmosphere a slight bit didn't I?" She said, rolling up her parchment. "I'll see you all in class later."

* * *

Two weeks passed since the Christmas holiday plans conversation. Hermione was lost in thought, thinking back to when Adrian had offered she join him for the holidays, saying that his mother would be happy to have her.

 _"Honestly, Hermione, my parents love you and I could warn them in advance so that they wouldn't ask the wrong questions," Adrian assured her._

 _"That's very nice of you, but I would be falling into the exact situation I'm trying to avoid with my_ own _family. And what about when your cousins show up? I'll have to tell them why I'm there and completely ruin the party celebrations," she shook her head. "I really appreciate the offer, truly I do but I really don't think you want my moody self there with you."_

 _Before Adrian could continue arguing with her, Hermione hugged him and took off towards her Runes course._

While sitting on a bench in the courtyard she was completely oblivious to the cold wind messing up her hair even more than it was before. Hermione didn't even react when two Gryffindor boys sat on either side of her. Sirius looked at James over the witch's head and both urged the other to start the conversation. She continued to look blankly out into the distance, immune to the cold.

Giving in to the silent push by his friend, Sirius cleared his throat. "Hey there, Delacour," he greeted.

Hermione blinked a few times, trying to pull her mind out of its dark hole, and smiled at the two boys. "Hello, how are you?"

"We're good," James mumbled, jerking his head at Sirius with a glare when an awkward silence fell over the three.

Sirius shook his head desperately with a slightly terrified frown. In response James nodded his head violently, widening his eyes meaningfully. At this, Sirius snapped his head to the side, causing his shoulder-length black hair to slap his face. Gritting his teeth, James raised a hand and gestured at Hermione. Opening his mouth, Sirius grimaced and shrugged in a 'what do you expect me to do?' signal. James rolled his eyes and pointed at his best friend and raised his left eyebrow, looking at Hermione from the corners of his eyes. Slouching on the bench as if in exhaustion, Sirius sighed, making Hermione stifle a giggle.

"What's so funny?" Sirius demanded.

"You," Hermione admitted. "Both of you. What is it neither of you want to say to me?" She wondered with her first genuine smile, however little it might be.

James groaned. "I would tell you, Hermione, I would," James pressed a hand to his heart. "But when I told Sirius he insisted he be the one to ask you, so I'm just being a good friend and refusing to let him back out. Plus, he's a Gryffindor, he really should become braver," James teased.

"I am brave!" Sirius exclaimed. James simply crossed his arms in silent challenge. Sirius huffed. "Delacour... Remus... He told us you were planning on staying at Hogwarts for the holidays?"

"That's right, I don't feel up to facing the pitying and grieving family," she confirmed.

"Well, James, he mentioned that in a letter to his mum and she suggested you be invited. I've been celebrating Christmas with the Potters for a few years now and I can assure you they wouldn't pity you."

"And why is it you telling me this and not James?" Hermione questioned, curiously.

"Because, a few years ago, like you, I had nowhere I wanted to celebrate Christmas and the Potters welcomed me into their home no questions asked and with no pity whatsoever," Sirius admitted. "And I wanted you to know that."

Hermione tilted her head and observed Sirius for a moment in silence, with Sirius meeting her gaze unwaveringly.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Come on, Hermione, you can't be alone on Christmas this year. You'll have nothing to do but think and worry about your brother."

"My parents know you well, you go shopping with my mum! You know you're welcome and you know they'll make you feel at home," James defended the invitation as well.

Hermione stared at the ground, debating the pros and cons of going to the Potters. Trying to decide why she would say yes to the Potters' invite and not Adrian's: Because she knew Dorea and Charlus much better than Adrian's parents, because Sirius had a point, because she had already seen them twice since Guillaume had gone missing so it wouldn't be fresh. Finally, Hermione made her decision.

"Alright," she agreed. "But only if you take me to that lake you were talking about once."

The boys didn't even hesitate.

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle was furious. Absolutely enraged. He slashed his wand. He cursed anyone who dared approach him. He killed a few useless house elves. He sent a few Death Eaters on random errands in order to spread fear in the hearts of all Witches and Wizards. He tortured the more useless prisoners to insanity. And finally, he regained a semblance of calm and left the main room of his manor. Voldemort strolled through the halls, heading towards the dungeons. He smirked when a few of his lower ranked followers he crossed in the halls cowered in fear against the walls.

The satisfaction he felt at these displays of terror did little to quell his anger, however. They were not the one whom Tom needed to be feared by. The Dark Lord stopped in front of a large wooden door and slammed it open. The prisoner in the corner of the cell tugged on their restraints, causing the chains to jingle.

"Hello," Tom said in a deceitfully calm voice, his glowing red eyes betraying his true emotions. The prisoner said nothing and only pulled their bare, bloody feet up, closer to their body. "Shall we try again?" Riddle questioned, grinning pleasantly at his captive.

 **A/N: Hehehe! Any thoughts? Who is the prisoner? Is it Guillaume or someone else? If it's not Guillaume, does that mean he's dead? Is And if it is someone else, who could it be? Any ideas? I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and though a previous reviewer reassured me about typos and all that, I still want to apologize if there are any! (As usual, if there are some big bad ones that bother you, please point them out, I appreciate it!)**

 **Either way, I'll love anything positive you have to say about the chapter or any constructive criticism!**

 **PS Hope you didn't find this too short. :)**


	32. Chapter 32: Hot chocolate leads you home

**A/N: So... I got a few angry reviews for the last chapter... I think most of them were only half angry or playfully angry because there was a smiley or two mixed in with the review but gosh, the heart attacks some of you caused me! Despite hating my cruel disposition and my making you wait for information about Guillaume I hope you still enjoy and like my story! And I'm sorry if the chapters come in a bit slowly. You know... Life sometimes gets in the way as I say, hehe. Anyway, thank you for all the lovely reviews!**

 **Though, I did get a guest review from an 'unsatisfied customer' and I just want to apologize. I'm sorry you don't like Guillaume and backstories. I do try and take into account criticism but I'm afraid I can't do much about this one, the Delacour story is already developed and I quite like Guillaume as do quite a few of the other readers (at least that is what I was led to believe by the outraged reviews after his possible death). I hope you still read the story, maybe just skipping the scenes that didn't interest you (even if that will make for some short chapters sometimes). And if you chose to abandon this story because of this... Well, there's not much I can do.**

Dorea watched from the kitchen window as Hermione sat in the snow covered garden, wrapped in the knitted blanket Dorea had provided the young witch. The Potter lady stirred the cup of hot chocolate in her hands and sighed.

"Is something the matter, 'Rea?" Sirius questioned from behind her as he entered the kitchen.

Smiling, the older witch turned and shook her head. "Oh, you know me, just fretting over details for the Christmas celebrations in two days."

Sirius frowned. "I didn't think you were organizing anything extravagant this year?"

"Now, Sirius Black, surely by now you're aware that just because there's no ball doesn't mean there's no celebration!" Dorea admonished, pleasantly.

"One of those for me?" He inquired, distracted at the sight of the steaming cups on the kitchen table.

"Red cup," Dorea pointed at said cup.

Peering over the rim, Sirius grinned broadly, his eyes gleaming excitedly. "Marshmallows to the brim. My favorite." He quickly took a big gulp, not caring that it burnt his throat on the way down. "Delicious as usual!" He proclaimed.

Dorea nodded, glancing out the window once again. "To show your appreciation, would you be a dear and take a mug out to Hermione?"

"Do I have to?" Sirius groaned, not pleased with the idea of going out into the cold.

The look Dorea Potter sent him, a stern glare, a raised eyebrow and pursed lips, was all the answer he needed. He raised his arms in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll do it!"

"The purple mug," Dorea pointed out.

Sirius sighed loudly, hoping to communicate how tortuous forcing him outside in this weather was and left. He trudged through the snow carefully so that none of the hot chocolate would spill. Without greeting, he dropped down onto the bench, close enough to touch Hermione.

"Brought you a cuppa made specially by 'Rea," he declared.

Hermione turned and smiled softly as she took the mug of hot chocolate. "Guillaume made me a cup of what he considered the best hot chocolate in the world. It was from an old café in Paris. He told me it would raise my spirits and make all my troubles melt away. That was on the first day that I moved in with him after -" she stopped, suddenly considering what she revealed. "Everything," she finished, lamely.

"Was it as good as he led you to believe?" Sirius questioned, genuinely curious and already planning a trip over to Paris.

"Delicious, nothing but melted chocolate and creamy milk. No marshmallows though," Hermione revealed.

"Ahh, no thanks then," Sirius refused. "Marshmallows are a must."

"You could bring your own," Hermione suggested.

"Any high-class, self-respecting hot chocolate café should provide their own marshmallows, otherwise they are not worth my time nor my consideration," Sirius stated, disdainfully sniffing his nose.

"With such a close-minded attitude you'll miss out on a lot of worthwhile experiences."

Widening his eyes innocently, Sirius faced Hermione in confusion. "How on earth can it be worthwhile if there are no marshmallows?"

Hermione giggled as she took a sip from her steaming cup, not noticing Sirius' satisfied grin. For a moment they sat in silence, finishing up their hot chocolates before Sirius decided to distract Hermione in another way. Smirking, he reached out and tugged on one of her wayward curls.

"Your hair's a mess, Delacour. You've been letting yourself go," he proclaimed. "For a moment last year, I actually thought you might be turning into an attractive bird. I see now that I was wrong."

"Excuse me?!" She screeched, outraged. "You arrogant, superficial, prick! Sirius Black!" Said boy started chortling, wrapping his arms protectively around his middle when Hermione attempted to punch him.

"Aw, don't be like that, Delacour! I was teasing!"

"Well, I didn't appreciate it! No! Don't touch me! That was insulting, not amusing! It's time you learn the difference!"

"If it soothes your pride, I'll tell you that I much prefer your hair like this. It represents your fiery personality much better than the tidy curls you have at school!" Sirius exclaimed, shielding his face now, eyes wide in fear seeing as he had not been expecting such an angry response to his joke.

"You absolute git!" Hermione hollered, standing from her seat and storming off a few feet away from the dark-haired boy.

"What's going on out here?!" James demanded as he joined the duo outside, hands on his hips.

"Sirius is a prat!" Hermione yelled.

"I was just kidding! I was trying to distract her!" Sirius defended himself.

"Ah, give the bloke a break, Hermione, you know as well as I do that he has foot in the mouth disease," James chuckled.

Hermione squinted her eyes and simply stared at the two boys for a moment. Then discreetly hiding her wand from view, created two snowballs and sent them flying towards the two best friends. James stumbled and Sirius fell off the bench in shock. For a moment, everyone was still, Hermione trying to calm her laughing and Sirius and James attempting to comprehend what had just happened, and then the snowball fight truly started. The garden of Potter Manor was soon filled with squeals, yelps, and victorious exclamations. The battle continued well into the evening with even the Potter parents, Dorea and Charlus deciding to eventually join in.

* * *

The day after Christmas, Charlus Potter called up the stairs. Hearing her name, Hermione poked her head out of her bedroom.

"Yes?" She hollered back, politely.

"There's a letter for you!"

Curious, Hermione wandered down the stairs and smiled at the older man. "A letter you say?" She checked since she was not currently expecting anything.

"It just got here by muggle post," Charlus nodded, holding it out to her but he noticed her hesitation as she observed the messy scrawl of her name, in a writing she did not recognize. "I've checked it for any hexes or curses: it's safe."

"Oh, well then," Hermione relented, finally moving to take the letter from her host.

As she took hold of it, Hermione was surprised by how light and soft the letter was. Obviously, whatever the envelope contained was not parchment. In fact, she strongly suspected that it was not even writing-paper. Using her wand, she neatly ripped open the envelope and peeked inside. Hermione realized her first assumption had been correct. The envelope contained nothing but a paper napkin. _A high-end paper napkin_ , she thought to herself as she tugged it out and rubbed her fingers over it, for it was indeed quite a fancy napkin despite being a throw-away napkin. Thoughtfully, Hermione flipped the napkin and froze. The title _Angelina's_ was elegantly printed in gold on that side of the napkin. For a moment Hermione couldn't think. She could barely breathe.

"I- I- um- I have to go!" She exclaimed, grabbing her coat by the door. "I don't know when I'll be back!"

Saying nothing more she ran from the manor, not even slowing in her race as she pulled out her wand, waved it and disappeared with a loud pop. Hermione was completely oblivious to the four residents of Potter Manor watching after her, bemused by her sudden departure.

* * *

Riddle's House was silent and still. Nothing and nobody dared to move. It had been weeks since Voldemort's terrifying temper tantrum as some had taken to calling it behind their Lord's back. However, the atmosphere surrounding them was tense and dangerous. Everyone knew that they were walking a thin line. In fact, his followers were fairly certain that the only thing stopping the Dark Lord from killing everyone at the slightest error was the fact that Voldemort _needed_ his followers.

Tom was currently sitting in his office in company of Abraxas, Avery, and Lestrange. All three men were hesitant to speak, eyeing each other while at the same time attempting to disguise their unease.

"What exactly do you _mean_ you _suspect?"_ Tom hissed, his eyes glinting red with his rage.

"Well, Sire, the Potter Manor, it's strongly protected, it has lots of wards as you know. So we can't be certain but we are almost-"

"Almost?" Voldemort snapped, standing from his seat and striding around his desk. "Does almost sound good enough to you?"

"No, Sire," Abraxas admitted. "But you requested we inform you of any sign of movement. It was brief but we'd be ready to bet she stepped out of the wards for at least a second before disapparating."

"Would you be willing to bet your lives?" The Dark Lord questioned, his voice deceivingly soft.

"M-my Lord?" Lestrange stuttered in fear.

"Did you catch the trace?"

"We could only follow it to Paris. We suspect she skipped," Avery intervened.

"Hmmm," Tom hummed thoughtfully as he observed the men in his office. "Nott!" He barked, making a man hurry into the room from out in the corridor. "Summon the others," he ordered, before turning back to the three men. "If you are mistaken when we return it seems that one of you will indeed be betting their lives on their error. I'll let you decide who."

With an evil smirk, Tom strode away, heading for the dinning hall. "My men," he spoke, spreading his arms exaggeratedly in order to catch all their attentions. "Today, we will be playing a game of hide and seek in Paris. The first one of you to find Hermione Delacour will be rewarded handsomely," he announced, satisfaction filling him when he noticed the eager and excited men who shifted at his declaration.

Those present needed no more encouragement before disaparating on the spot. Abraxas, however, shuffled closer to his leader. "My Lord, might it not be more prudent to approach the witch, um, politely? If you wish to recruit her, that is?"

"The days of politeness are long gone, Abraxas," Voldemort informed his follower, walking from the room. "And you should know that there are many other ways of getting someone to do what you want them to do," Tom reached the doorway that lead to his gardens. "Any chance of taking Hermione Delacour willingly disappeared the day Guillaume Delacour _escaped."_

Saying nothing more, Tom Riddle, Lord of the Death Eaters, disapparated from his grounds.

 **A/N: I was scrolling some HP fanfictions and saw a story called 'The Future isn't Set in Stone' Which I found amusing! That would be the perfect sequel title, wouldn't it? Good thing I'm not planning a sequel, ahe?**

 **Okay anyway, I apologize if you found this chapter a bit on the short side. Fear not! Next chapter should be back to the usual length at least.**

 **Please tell me what you think!**


	33. Chapter 33: The one the Dark Lord wants

**A/N: Wow! So you remember the story I mentioned in the last chapter, The Future Isn't Set in Stone? Well, I received a few reviews from people who recommended I read the story, including one from the author themself! I was super surprised! Since then and now I've only had time to read the first chapter and it was amazingly written so it was very nice hearing that this was one of the authors favorite stories! YAY!**

 **And thank you to all the other reviewers and your enthusiastic responses to the revelation about Guillaume! I'm glad you're all still enjoying it!**

 **On with the story!**

 **Disclaimer: Saying that Angelina's (yes, it has spread worldwide) is the best hot chocolate is purely personal. While it is excellent hot chocolate I have no doubt that other cafés in Paris offer delicious hot chocolate!**

Hermione hurried through the streets, only just jumping to the side in time to avoid determined Parisians who were furiously striding through the streets. At the same time, Hermione succeeded in quickly pushing through packs of wandering tourists who were continuously looking up at the façades of the buildings rather than where they were going.

Suddenly she came to an abrupt stop and looked up at the sign hanging above the door. In gold and practiced penmanship, the word _Angelina's_ was perfectly legible. Hermione glanced across the street to check that she could see the Louvre, just like Guillaume had mentioned and was satisfied when behind the ostentatious fence stood the Jardin des Tuileries. Nodding to herself, Hermione pushed open the glass door and glanced around the busy café. She noticed the long line of customers waiting to be seated but passed them by, moving to enter the main salon of the Café.

" _Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle, mais vous devez faire la queue comme tout le monde,"_ a neatly dressed lady informed the young girl with a slightly annoyed smile.

Hermione frowned, opening and closing her mouth, not knowing what to say. There was no way she was going to stand in line for what could be hours only to discover that her brother was not here and that she had misunderstood the message behind the napkin.

"I'm looking for someone," Hermione explained.

" _Ah! Vous avez une réservation?"_ The lady asked, then shook her head in realization. "Forgive me, you have reservation, yes?" She repeated her question in almost perfect English.

"Umm," Hermione hesitated, once again looking around the large room. "Maybe?"

"Follow me," the lady ordered, turning away and leading Hermione towards the counter. " _Michel, registre des réservations! De suite!"_

A lanky man dressed in an overly large suit stumbled as he ducked to get what she had ordered. "Faster, Michel!" The tall lady snapped, smiling at Hermione pleasantly. "Interns, what can you do?" She teased, finally taking the book she wanted and nodding approvingly to the boy, who seemed a few years older than Hermione. "Name?"

The witch paused. "Delacour?" She offered.

The lady scanned the page, holding a delicate fountain pen in her hands. "There are no Delacours marked down for today," Hermione was told.

"Perhaps I was mistaken on the day then," Hermione murmured.

"We make reservation for three weeks?" The lady tried.

Hermione shook her head distracted. "No, that would be quite pointless but thank you for your time." Just as she was about to leave Hermione twirled around as inspiration hit her. "WAIT!" She yelled, startling the two employees standing at the counter.

The pair looked over at her, eyes wide and still holding the book. "Is there a reservation for Granger?"

The lady's eyes squinted and glanced Hermione up and down as if wondering if this might be a scam or a foolish tourist trying to steal a reservation. " _S'il-vous plait, je cherche mon frère mais j'oublis toujours qu'il aime utiliser le nom de notre mère."_

Hearing the articulate French, the lady's face cleared and she re-opened the book to search for the name just mentioned to her. " _Ah oui, Granger! Pour deux!_ Private room for two, follow me."

The young witch could hardly breathe as her heart pounded in her ears. Was it too much to hope? Was it a trap? She silently trailed behind the lady as they walked up red-carpeted stairs with gold rimmed balisters. They strode by many other tables before reaching a hall with multiple doorways. Reaching for the handle on the first door, the lady smiled.

"Your brother has been waiting for you eagerly, please order anything extra you wish, your brother has already paid for it all."

Nodding, Hermione took a deep breath before entering the small, beautifully decorated room and huffed. "I should have guessed."

Storming towards the table Hermione grabbed one of the many patisseries and took an angry and unelegant bite.

"Angelina would be horrified," the red-haired man in the corner teased, taking a relaxed sip from his cup.

"Quite frankly, I could care less about her! Besides," Hermione flicked her hair snobbishly. "You should know it was Antoine who founded this café."

"Nitpicking," the redhead waved her comment away.

Hermione ground her teeth together, glaring across the room, oblivious to the wonderful view from the window.

The man sighed and leaned forward in his chair. "Hermione, please listen-"

"Listen?!" Hermione interrupted, shrilly. "Why should I listen?! You have been missing for weeks! _Weeks!_ Not once have we received any sort of sign suggesting you were alive! Nothing for weeks on end! We thought you were dead!" She screamed, tears filling her eyes as she released her pent up rage. " _I_ thought you were dead," she added, brokenly. "Instead, I come here after you send me a napkin, a _napkin,_ Guillaume! And I find you calmly sipping a cup of hot chocolate, treating yourself to high-end patisseries and flipping through _Le Parisian_! You know perfectly well that is a right-wing paper!" She yelled in disgust, her eyes lost.

"Are you particularly against right-wing news?" Guillaume joked.

Hermione dropped into the armchair by the window and glared at her brother. "No, but there _is_ something wrong about you reading it. You shouldn't be this relaxed. We were one week away from declaring you dead. For all intents and purposes, you just came back from the dead."

Guillaume stood and carefully came to his sister's side, trying to take her hand. "Hermione-"

"Don't," Hermione hissed, pulling her hand away from his. "Not when you look like that."

" _Ma puce-_ "

Once again Hermione interrupted him. "Please, Guillaume, I need my brother, not this- this stranger," she claimed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Sighing, Guillaume relented and waved his wand, letting his features morph back into their natural forms. Hermione gasped. Guillaume turned away.

"Now you see why I would have rather stayed in disguise," he muttered.

Hermione lifted a trembling hand and tilted her brother's face to the side. "What happened to you?"

"I got captured and then tortured," he shrugged as if that statement was hardly of consequence.

"And what? They just let you go when you refused to tell them anything?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"No," he shook his head. "I escaped."

Hermione's face was blank. "You escaped," she repeated, her tone empty of any emotion. "How?"

"People always underestimate those who are silent. What the Death Eaters saw as weakness and lack of power was actually just me, biding my time for the opportune moment. Simply because I do not like violence does not mean I am unwilling to use it when push comes to shove."

"So you surprised them with your unexpected prowess and strategic mind?"

"Yes," the Delacour man agreed. "I had help, though. I would not have been able to succeed without a wand."

"Who helped you?"

Guillaume opened his mouth to respond before looking out the window and changing his mind. "It would make more sense for me to tell you everything from the start, would it not?"

Hermione nodded, allowing her brother to return to his seat and waiting patiently for him to start.

" _Ma belle,_ I thank the stars every day that Apolline went to Paris that day and that you were away at school. If either of you had been present, I dare not think what may have happened. _Especially_ to you. But that comes later, I'm getting ahead of myself."

He paused, shifting in his seat. "They came in great numbers, I had no chance of escaping. I fought but was badly injured and ended up being captured soon after that. They locked me up in a dark cell. I was alone for at least a few days. It wasn't until the Dark Lord himself paid me a visit that I discovered why I was attacked and taken. Instead of simply killed."

Here, he took a second to eye Hermione nervously, as if afraid of her reaction to the next part of his story. "They wanted information, that much was obvious. Gradually, the questioning became more and more centered around one thing, one person... You, Hermione, Voldemort wanted to know everything I could tell him about you."

Hermione gave a half shrug, her face clearly revealing that she had been expecting this. "You're not surprised?" Guillaume demanded.

"I've crossed paths with him in Hogsmeade before. He wouldn't talk to me so much if he wasn't interested in me."

"Hermione, this is not something you should be so nonchalant about. You shouldn't be able to shrug off encounters with a dark wizard!"

"Honestly, it's nothing new to me, not even in this life," Hermione defended her somewhat careless attitude.

"This life?" Her brother's eyebrows rose.

"Oh, right. Gosh, I forget I haven't told you everything about that. What's important here, Guillaume, is that as long as his interest remained passive, I wasn't going to do anything to anger him."

Guillaume didn't appear convinced but nonetheless went on with his tale. "Anyway, as soon as I knew why they wanted me, I knew I had to get out of there. I can not yet reveal who came to my aid, but they provided me with a wand, and I was able to use it to escape when their guards were lowered."

"Why can you not tell me who helped you?"

"An Unbreakable Vow. They could not risk being found out."

Hermione was about to nod, appeased, when a thought hit her and she frowned. "An Unbreakable Vow?" She questioned, her voice shaking in slight disbelief. "Does that not require a third person?"

Guillaume paused, looking up at Hermione in warning. "Don't go there, Hermione. Please, now is not the time."

The pair engaged in a long staring match, daring the other to give in first. Neither willing to turn away. Until a loud pop from outside made them jump up and break their gaze. As they raced to the large windows they heard a few more pops and shared a worried glance. Gripping the window sill, Hermione leaned forward.

"In broad daylight? Are they mad?" She demanded, looking to her brother once again.

"Did you ever once believe Death Eaters to be sane?" Guillaume snapped, counting the black, cloaked men in the street.

"What are we going to do?!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling out her wand and facing her brother in desperation. "We can't just leave! They might start attacking muggles!"

Suddenly her brother was holding her shoulders firmly and bending down in order to be eye level with his shorter sister. "Hermione, listen, they're here for you, not the muggles so what we're going to do is _leave!"_ He proclaimed, urgently.

Hermione glanced back down at the muggles that were yelling and running around the street in panic, the men appearing out of thin air frightening them. "If they realize we're gone they might-"

"Those Muggles are not my responsibility! You are! If the Death Eaters catch you, far more people will be killed and surely the French Law Enforcement is already aware of the situation and preparing to take action. The muggles will be fine!"

Nodding, Hermione risked one more peek out the window and gasped when one of the masked, cloaked figures seemed to be looking right back at her. She screamed when a bright spell caused the window to explode. For a moment Hermione's world was nothing but the sound of breaking glass, the blindness of white light and the pain of crashing to the floor. Gasping for breath Hermione stared up at her brother, shocked by the blood dripping off his face and onto hers.

Guillaume rolled off his sister and pushed himself up. He was covered in multiple cuts, having been the one to receive the brunt of the falling shards of glass. The blond wizard helped his sister stand and reacted by instinct when she wavered on the spot.

"What's wrong?" He questioned. Unable to answer Hermione glanced down at her thigh where a large shard of glass was sticking out of her leg. "I can't pull it out yet, you'll bleed out," he informed her and pulled her farther away from the window, wincing when his sister groaned in pain. "We've got to get out of here. As soon as we're gone, the Death Eaters will follow."

This time he didn't even wait for Hermione to agree or not and disapparated without wasting another second. When they apparated in the middle of a park, Guillaume looked around in confusion. This had not been the destination he had in mind.

"We have to skip, Guillaume, if we don't want them to follow us," Hermione ground out, struggling to hold herself upright.

Guillaume spared just a second to marvel at the fact that his sister had successfully managed to hijack his disapparation and control the destination. Something that was impossible for any other witch or wizard. Only the one to instigate the disapparation should be able to control the destination. However, heeding the wisdom of her words, Guillaume quickly turned on the spot once again, repeatedly and thus taking them both all across the country before they finally reached their first destination.

The pair stood on the sidewalk staring at Potter Manor for a few minutes. Hermione was leaning heavily on her brother, unable to put weight on her injured leg. "You can't just leave!" Hermione exclaimed, realizing what her brother intended when he started gently placing her on the ground just outside the gates. "You're injured!"

Guillaume, as if only realizing this statement to be true, touched his left side where a steady stream of blood was running all the way to his feet. "We're targets, Hermione. Obviously, you're the ultimate goal but they'll come for me if it'll get them one step closer to you. Us being together, in the same spot would just be making things easier for them. We'd be like sitting ducks. I'll talk to the Dumbledores and see if they can arrange a safe hide-out where I can stay. But I made a mistake today, contacting you was a mistake and I'm sorry, I won't be doing it again."

"Guillaume, don't leave me, please," Hermione begged.

"We'll see each other soon, _ma puce_ , Aberforth will know what to do," Guillaume comforted his sibling and kissed her forehead.

Then he stood, smiled at Hermione sadly and disappeared. Hermione sighed as she pushed herself to a sitting position and leaned against the fence surrounding Potter Manor. Knowing she couldn't stay outside the Wards for too long Hermione waved her wand and waited. Barely a second passed before the doors to the Manor were ripped open and both Charlus and Dorea were racing to her side.

"Merlin! Hermione, what happened to you?" Charlus exclaimed, bending down to pick the small girl up and carry her inside.

"I'm alright, it's just a cut. A painful one to be sure, but one I'll survive."

* * *

Hermione struggled as she limped out of her assigned bedroom. It was the first day she was authorized by the Potter matriarch to leave her bed. While Hermione found walking to be relatively easy, going down the stairs was going to be a whole other matter she concluded as she grimaced at the stairs before her. Determined Hermione grabbed the railing and hopped down the first step. Satisfied with herself, Hermione started to move faster and she was halfway down the stairs when she started losing balance. She was just about to yelp in surprise when a strong arm wrapped around her from behind and pulled her up straight.

"Careful there, Delacour, you could get hurt," Sirius Black chuckled, holding her firmly against his chest.

"I was doing just fine," Hermione argued.

"Of course you were," Sirius agreed. "But would you deny me the honor of claiming to have helped you down the stairs like a proper gentleman?" He questioned with a smirk.

Huffing, Hermione pushed her hair out of her face. "I suppose I can allow you to get bragging rights," she relented, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as his went around her waist.

Sirius accompanied her all the way over to the living room and sat her on the couch across from the fire. Hermione watched him hesitate for a moment before he seemed to finally decide to stay, sitting in the armchair near her. Sirius shifted in his seat and looked from the flames to Hermione and back again.

"So... What happened to you?"

Hermione frowned. "Did Charlus and Dorea not tell you?"

"Nah, they said it was your story to tell if you chose to do so," he replied with shrug.

Hermione licked her lips and raised her eyebrows as she nodded thoughtfully. "I appreciate that I suppose."

"Will you tell me then?" He wondered.

"Tell _us,"_ James interrupted as he joined the pair in the living room and sat next to Hermione on the couch.

Hermione took a deep breath. "There's no real reason for me to hide the truth from you, part of the story is probably all over the news anyway, in the Muggle world and the Wizarding world."

" _Muggle_ world?!" James repeated in shock.

Hermione motioned to her wrapped up thigh. "That's where I got this injury," she paused, smilingly down bitterly. "In the Parisian Muggle world."

"What were you doing there?" Sirius asked.

"Remember that hot chocolate I told you about? The best in Paris that my brother made me once?" Sirius nodded. "The day I left this house in a rush, I had received- not so much a letter- more of a message. It was a napkin, from the very café that produces that hot chocolate."

James appeared confused but Sirius was shaking his head in understanding. "So you went to the café thinking it was a message from your brother?"

When Hermione acquiesced, James exploded. "Do you have a death wish, Hermione? That was obviously a trap!"

"Except it wasn't a trap!" Hermione yelled back before he could start ranting.

"Of all the stu- wait, it wasn't?"

"No, my brother was there, he escaped. He's alive."

The two boys could do nothing but stare at the bushy haired witch with tears in her eyes. "Oh."

"The Death Eaters found us and that's how I got hurt, my brother dropped me off here and then... left."

"Why did he leave? He would have been safe here," James declared.

"He's a target. He has access to something the Dark Lord wants and while he might be safe at Potter Manor, this location is an obvious one. He's going to go into hiding, at least for a little while," Hermione told the boys calmly.

Sirius frowned as he looked Hermione over. "How do you feel going back to Hogwarts in two days, with all that happened?" He asked, a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Hermione thought for a moment before answering. "Knowing that my brother is alive will enable me to focus better and _groom,"_ she mentioned the last part with a playful glare at Sirius who grimaced as he recalled all the punches he had received the other day at his ill-timed insult. "My leg should also be better by then, seeing as Dorea is quite adept at healing charms."

James smiled wryly. "Quite adept at healing charms? Why don't you just say she's good at them? Can't you speak normal English?" He teased.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "'Quite adept' is normal English. And just because you two have a vocabulary range the size of a teaspoon, doesn't mean I should dumb myself down for you. On the contrary, I think it does you both some good to hear a more developed English."

"Why yes, dear James, we would be faced with pandemonium if our companion didn't put her pervasive vocabulary to a convoluted application," Sirius proclaimed with a dramatic sweep of his arms.

Hermione tilted her head in amusement. "While I"m not certain all those words were properly applied, I appreciate the effort. Without failure there can be no success," she stood, wobbled for a second then placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Never give up Sirius, one day you'll overcome your limited vocabulary."

* * *

Regulus knew Hermione would notice his absence from their usual study table in the library. She was bound to notice. _But was it too much to ask for her to just let it go?_ Regulus complained to himself when he noticed Hermione come storming into the Library during their third week back since the Christmas holidays. _Of course, it is, bloody witch feels responsible for everyone_ , Regulus sneered in his head, trying to push back the friendly affection he felt at the thought.

Hunching his shoulders and plastering an angry glare on his face, he did what he knew was best for all of them. "What do you want, Delacour?" He demanded, his tone annoyed.

The use of her surname made her falter slightly but she continued on, undeterred. "You've been avoiding us- well, _me."_

"What makes you believe you are important enough to be avoided?" Regulus sneered, coolly flipping a page in the book he was reading.

"The fact that you have not been to any of our Library study sessions, for one," she stated, crossing her arms as she observed the younger boy. "And then there's the fact that you've talked to all our study group members at least once since we've returned from break. _Including_ Lily. If that's not a sign that you're avoiding me, I'm not sure what is! You've never interacted with Lily outside of our study sessions unless I was there!"

"My, don't you see yourself as overly important," the Black boy muttered with condescendingly raised eyebrows.

Hermione furrowed her brows in worry. "Why are you being like this?" She asked, softly. "What have I done to offend you?"

Regulus almost wanted to take everything back. He wanted to explain it wasn't her fault. It was his. He had been stupid, misled. He had lived a game of pretend for years. But these Christmas holidays had shown him it was time to finish up this charade. People were at risk now and that was unacceptable. With these thoughts drifting quickly through his mind Regulus squared his shoulders and glared at the witch standing in front of him.

"Listen Delacour, I was just fooling around. It's time I grew up, I can't be seen hanging around mudbloods and blood-traitors anymore. My reputation has already been tarnished enough because of these past few years. You want to be friends with people beneath you? That's your prerogative, but I'm not falling down that hole any longer," he spat in disgust.

"Regulus," Hermione murmured, hurt and confused. In all the years they had been friends, he had never been this cruel, not even in his first year.

The younger Black brother remained imperturbable, refusing to let his façade break. "If it comforts you, I had fun Delacour. It was fun trying to pretend I was something I wasn't but it ends now. With my disgrace of a brother being disowned soon, I have to step up to my responsibilities."

"This isn't you, Regulus," Hermione whispered.

Regulus stood up, picking up his book in the process and sneered down at the witch he was conversing with. "No, Delacour, you're wrong. This is the real me. The boy, the _child_ you thought you knew, he was just an illusion. He doesn't exist."

At that, Regulus turned to leave, strengthening his resolve by repeatedly telling himself he was doing the right thing. Before he could leave the nook they were hidden in Hermione grabbed his wrist.

"Who's making you do this, Regulus? I know you, I don't care what you say, I know the real you and he's kind, caring, arrogant and distant but he's genuinely good deep down. Why are you doing this?" She pressed, hoping he would give her something to go on, something that would prove he was doing this out of obligation.

Shaking her off, Regulus closed his eyes briefly, before looking away. "Just let it go, Hermione. I'm not who you thought I was. I never could be."

He could feel Hermione's gaze boring into his back as he walked away but nothing would make him go back. He knew he was doing the right thing. Tom Riddle had once again come to visit him and his parents and while Regulus was young, he was not naive nor dull. He could identify someone suffering from a dangerous obsession with relative ease. So when Tom Riddle had inquired about Regulus' friendship with Hermione Delacour, Regulus had done the obvious thing and lied. Yes. He had lied to the Dark Lord and claimed that his friendship had ended a while ago on terrible terms and that there was no way Hermione Delacour would ever forgive him. The Dark Lord had been frustrated, angry even but Regulus had not backed down, had not given up on his claims. No matter what, Tom Riddle would not be getting access to Hermione through him. The only way to assure that was to truly end his friendship with the French witch. Regulus had hoped at first that ignoring and avoiding her would be enough for her, but it appeared that she needed the end of their relationship to be stated clearly and in undeniable terms.

Regulus reached the Slytherin dorms and sighed as he entered. Hopefully his conversation with the Ravenclaw witch today would be enough to guarantee that.

 **A/N: Please tell me what you think! I appreciate all the reviews! Also don't hesitate to point out typos, major mistakes or constructive criticism!**

 ** _Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle, mais vous devez faire la queue comme tout le monde -_ Excuse me, Miss, but you'll have to stand in the line like everyone else.**

 ** _Ah! Vous avez une réservation? -_ Ah! You have a reservation?**

 ** _Michel, registre des réservations! De suite! -_ Michel, the reservation register!**

 ** _S'il-vous plait, je cherche mon frère mais j'oublis toujours qu'il aime utiliser le nom de notre mère. -_ Please, I'm looking for my brother but I always forget that he enjoys using our mother's name.**

 ** _Ah oui, Granger! Pour deux! -_ Ah yes, Granger! For two!**

 ** _Ma puce -_ My sweet (Literally, my lice, but it's affectionate, it truly is!)**

 ** _Ma belle -_ My pretty (Which in English sounds kind of creepy so maybe more 'Sweetie','Darling'?)**


	34. Chapter 34: Breaking friendships

**A/N: Okay so there's a well-known scene in this chapter, and for the purpose of my story I've altered the details of the event. It is also quite a short chapter... Why? Because I have a lot planned next chapter and it all goes together. Sometimes my scenes may appear randomly organized. This is not the case. There is an order to them and my madness. Indeed, mixing them up would disrupt everything inside my mind. It's a busy place in there. Ah well. Hope you enjoy it anyway!**

 **Please do tell me what you think, because I always enjoy your reviews! Motivate me or constructively criticize me- my STORY! :o God I'm hyper today.**

 **Disclaimer: It is not mine. What more can I say?**

"Guillaume told you?" Hermione demanded, feeling betrayed.

"Of course he did, Hermione. He's worried about you," Albus stated, calmly.

"He's the one going into hiding!"

"Perhaps, but you're the ultimate goal. Seeing as you are a Hogwarts student we can not send you into hiding without everyone asking questions, but we can raise your personal security," Dumbledore tried to soothe the disgruntled witch.

Hermione lifted an annoyed eyebrow as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. "How, pray tell, do you plan on raising my security detail without also raising unwanted questions?"

"The Order will understand that the secrecy is necessary," Albus assured her.

"Really? So you won't be telling them why I'll be needing more security? Any security at all for that matter since at the moment I am quite invisible to them. Won't they want to know why Voldemort is after me? Won't they be curious about what's so special about me? Are you ready to answer all those questions? Because I am definitely _not_ prepared to reveal all my secrets."

"They will be informed that the secrecy is necessary," Albus repeated. "I will tell them that the more they know about you, the more at risk you and they are."

"You believe that will be enough for them?"

"It will have to be," the headmaster stated, gravely.

"You're being uncharacteristically foolish if you think they won't become suspicious of me when you inform them of my need for a security detail," Hermione criticized.

The old man sighed, not certain what to say to her in response.

Hermione shook her head, scoffing. "I realize that I can't dissuade you and I understand that it is for my own good. However, I hope you are fully aware of the repercussions assigning guards to protect me will have. I also hope you know that I will be ditching them when I go on with my _extracurricular_ activities."

"Do what you will, my dear, I can't stop you. All I ask is that you return my Order members in one piece and with their minds intact," Dumbledore requested, a twinkle in his eyes.

Hermione smiled as she left his office. "No promises."

* * *

Hermione stormed through the halls. She prayed for the sake of certain Marauders that she had misheard the whispered conversations in the corridor. Reaching the great doors leading outside Hermione didn't even wonder at why the doors opened with unusual violence for her, reflecting her current mood, as opposed to their usual calm and slow parting. Hermione barely needed a second to spot the boys she was searching for and when she did, she felt unbelievable rage.

"What do you think you're doing?!" She yelled.

Everyone froze, even Lily who had been in the process of refusing an ill-timed date proposal from James.

"Just having a bit of fun, Delacour," Sirius snickered, glancing at the boy dangling in the air.

"If this is your definition of fun, Sirius Black, you're no better than the infamous Dark Lord we're all hearing so much about these days," she snapped, causing multiple people to gasp in horror.

"Hermione, you can't compare us to that monster!" James exclaimed.

Choosing to ignore them Hermione pulled out her wand and freed her poor Slytherin friend. "Get him out of here Lily, before he says something he'll regret," Hermione murmured, softly, at least glad she had arrived in time to prevent that terrible outcome.

Lily nodded, feeling she had been in the presence of the Marauders long enough and wrapped an arm around Snape, leading him away from the crowd that had surrounded the group.

"I can't believe you," Hermione whispered, shaking her head.

"We weren't doing anything bad, Hermione," James defended.

"He was just sticking his nose in places it didn't belong," Sirius added.

Hermione knew they were referring to Severus' obsession with Remus' furry condition. "That in no way justifies your actions. You should learn to handle your problems in mature ways. Not in such despicable and monstrous manners."

"Monstrous? Isn't that a bit extreme? We were just dangling him upside down," Sirius shrugged off her comment.

Hermione nodded her head. "You were bullying him. I thought you boys had grown up but you're still just nothing but bullies. Do you want to know who else is a bully?"

The boys frowned but did not answer.

"No? Why not? Are you afraid of the answer? That's a shame because I'll be telling you anyway. Voldemort is a bully."

"He's way worse than a bully!" Sirius hollered, enraged at being compared to such a man.

"He's the worse kind of bully, but he's still a bully," Hermione assured.

"Hermione, please, you're being dramatic," James muttered, glancing uncomfortably at the students surrounding them.

"Why do you do it?" She wanted to know. "Do you feel a sick sort of pleasure knowing he's at your mercy?"

"Of course not!" Sirius exclaimed.

"You say that as if it should be obvious," Hermione commented. "But the fact that you do such things doesn't make it so. Do you know what I saw when I got here? I saw fear."

"Snape wasn't scared, he was insulting us," James waved off her words.

"I wasn't talking about Severus. I was talking about them," Hermione gestured towards the other students who shifted and started to move away. "Oh, sure they might have been chuckling along but only because they were worried about being your next targets if they didn't. People enjoy your pranks, they find those amusing. But this? This scares them because this is nothing but cruel bullying."

"Hermione-" Remus started, stepping forward.

The brunette witch violently raised a hand to stop him. "Don't, Remus," she hissed, glaring at him. "You might not have been participating but you sat there and did nothing despite knowing what they were doing was wrong. I've seen people do that before, Remus," she claimed, gripping at her scarred forearm. "And it absolutely destroyed them," she stated, recalling Draco's haunted expression. "They stood back and watched because they were afraid and in the end they were but shells of their former selves."

Hermione blanched as she finished, realizing that in her rage she had declared some pretty 'over-dramatic' things, just as James had pointed out.

James was staring at Hermione with a concerned frown. "Hermione..." He murmured softly, lifting a hand to what? Comfort her perhaps, Hermione wasn't sure, but she was sure that she didn't want to be comforted, not right now and certainly not by the Marauders.

And so, turning away she hurried away before anything else could be said.

* * *

"Regulus," Hermione whispered, eyes-wide as she looked up at the tall boy she had just crashed into.

The younger Black boy, glared at her, his face scrunching up in disgust. "What part of 'stay away from me' do you not understand? Are you truly that stupid?"

Hermione felt a twinge of hurt, not at his words, but at his tone and glanced to the side sadly. "I'm sorry, it was unintentional."

"Well, be sure it doesn't happen again, I can't be seen mingling with blood-traitors, no matter how pure their blood is," he spat, wiping at the sleeves of his robe.

"I'm sorry, Reg, it won't happen again, I swear it."

Sneering at her, he strode away in anger. Hermione stood in the middle of the corridor, watching him disappear with tears gathering in her eyes. He had been so kind before and she couldn't understand what had happened to cause his sudden change. They had talked about his parents, his brother and the Dark Lord, he had told her everything. So why was he pulling away? Slowly, Hermione continued to move down the corridor and almost crashed into another person since she was staring at the floor, trying to hold back her tears. She came to an abrupt stop when she noticed a pair of perfect black shoes in front of her.

"Delacour," the voice of Sirius Black called out to her.

Grinding her teeth together, Hermione looked up and met the boy's gaze straight on. "Black," she greeted, coldly.

"So that's how it is? You're going to be all cold and distant with me but you're going to keep calling my brother 'Reg'?" He glared.

"Yes."

"Why?" He exclaimed, pulling his hair suddenly in anger. "He's being an absolute jerk with you! I know I wasn't always nice to you, but I thought we got over that already!"

Hermione shook her head, smiling bitterly. "You really don't get it, do you?" She pushed her hair over her shoulder while glancing briefly up at the ceiling in exasperation. "Regulus is angry about something and yes, he's not dealing with it in the best way, but he's not taking it out on others. Oh, sure, he's rude and bitter towards me when we cross paths but he's not purposefully seeking me out in order to release his rage. You," Hermione grimaced in frustration and annoyance as she attempted to make him understand. "You- what you and the Marauders do, it's spiteful, it's malicious and it's vindictive."

Sirius shifted in his spot and stuffed his hands deep into his pants' pockets, looking away from her as if ashamed. Hermione, however, suspected it was too much for her to hope that he was actually feeling ashamed. "You just don't get it do you?" She questioned, resigned. "He's angry and not holding back, but you and the Marauders, you're bullies. Plain and simple. And I refuse to be friends with bullies."

"Please, Delacour, it's-" Sirius started to say something but Hermione interrupted.

"You used to bully me, not that long ago. I know how it feels and it's not pleasant. I thought you had all grown up a bit, matured perhaps but I realize now that that is not the case..." She trailed off, taking one small step closer to Sirius and tilted her head in order to meet his gaze. Her eyes softened when she noticed a hint of pain in his eyes, though she could not determine what had caused it. "I- I can't be friends with bullies, I'm not the type of person that can just look away from such things and ignore them."

Hermione paused, waiting for Sirius to say something, neither one looking away from the other. As the seconds dragged on, Hermione came to four realizations that had as much to do with the other as a book and a tomato. One, Sirius was _not_ going to speak. Two, she had never really stood _this_ close to Sirius Black. Three, Sirius had _long_ left behind the gawky teenager phase. Four, he was fifteen. Hermione, for the first time, could see the dark blue flecks in his silver eyes, the way the light glinted off of them and found them to be quite simply the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen.

She shook her head and smiled softly as she raised a hand to his shoulder and stood on her tiptoes in order to kiss the taller boy on the cheek. "You're very sweet when you want to be, Sirius," Hermione murmured, moving back. "It's such a shame that you prefer to hide behind your bully persona."

With those words, she stepped around him, ready to leave him and the Marauders as a whole. At least until they finally grew up. Hermione was stopped when Sirius grabbed her wrist and pulled the witch against his chest looking down at her with a frown. "What do you mean you can't be friends with us anymore?" He demanded.

"Exactly what it sounds like, Sirius."

"So, we're not friends anymore?" He wanted to know, his breath fanning across her face due to their proximity.

Hermione nodded, trying to push away from the tall boy. Uncomfortable with the fact that she was now acutely aware of how handsome he was. "Not until you spot being a bully."

"Do you care for us so little that you can throw us away with such ease?" He proclaimed.

Hermione blinked back a few tears. "If you think this is easy for me, Sirius, think again."

"So, you're using our friendship as a way of forcing the others and I to 'change our ways'?" He snapped.

"Not at all," she denied. "You can continue being a bully for as long as you want. I won't force you to do anything. But I won't be part of it," she declared, finally succeeding in freeing herself from his strong and firm grip.

She was a few steps away from him when she turned back around, only to find him staring after her. "But if you could just promise me one thing: don't do anything stupid, will you?"

Sirius' brow furrowed and pursed his lips. "You've made me promise the same thing before if I recall correctly."

Hermione grinned, amused by his thoughtful expression. "I have, yes, but this time, there's more at risk. Will you promise me, Sirius? All I ask is that you promise not to put anyone's life at risk."

"Come on, Delacour, surely, even if you think I'm a bully you don't honestly think I'm capable of murder?" He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck almost nervously.

"Murder and involuntary manslaughter are closer than you might think," she pointed out, leaving a shocked, Sirius in her wake as she rounded a corner out of his sight.

 **A/N: Sooooo, I hope you enjoyed it. I struggled with this one. Bullying and reprimanding. Not my strong point it seems. Do tell me what you thought if you have the time and patience. I already know what will happen in the next chapter, unfortunately, end of year finals are coming up so I don't know how soon I'll be able to update, what with last second studying, exams, celebrating or drowning my sorrows and the like. Then traveling back to my home country to see my family. It's all going to be busy busy, though I'm sure (or rather hope) I'll find a moment to slip in a chapter.**

 **Ahhh, timeline to be more exact? Ehhh, two exam weeks, and then, one week of celeb-morning and traveling. So, three weeks max-ish, or sooner if you're lucky. We shall see, we shall see.**


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